The Original Origin
by St. Provena
Summary: Shirou Emiya is the man who embodies the concept of Sword... After the Fuyuki Fire. Before that, he was a different individual from a much more modest life. In a parallel world and in a different war, the boy who would become the hero of justice doesn't grow up to be a sword. Rather, he becomes a Creator. This is his original origin; the origin of Creation.
1. Bump in the Night

Kotomine Risei was a man of piety and faith. He kept all of the commandments, did his duties wonderfully, and always remembered to pray three times a day in his off hours.

Now though, he was slightly compelled to break his holy streak and take some time to rest. The past couple weeks for him have been stressful enough.

Fuyuki City, the battleground of the Holy Grail War, was recovering from the massive amount of damage it had sustained. Even now, nearly a half of the city would require intensive repairs and construction before it could be brought back to its former glory.

In the beginning, the War had gone smoothly enough. A team of seven mages alongside seven servants had all checked in on the same day and it seemed like the very first battle of the war would occur soon. The Einzberns, Edelfelts, Tohsakas, and even the dying Matou clan would be participating and everyone in the magical community knew that those big families had some beef with each other.

They had each summoned powerful servants worthy of being Heroic Spirits, beings who could casually destroy the entire city at full power. It was only thanks to the fact that they all had a wish they wanted fulfilled which held them back. Even so, a simple brief scuffle can cause massive collateral damage similar to a small earthquake.

Usually, it'd be a simple matter for him to cover it up. After all, he was the mediator of the war and had the authority to manage the entire city from behind the scenes. The church also donated some of their reserved members to help in the war effort, of which he organized to effectively cover up the war from prying eyes.

Still, the war had blown up out of proportions when a completely unpredicted event took place.

The appearance of Nazi Germany.

It was an event nobody could've predicted. The Holy Grail war was a secret war separate from the real world and kept isolated within the eyes of the magical world. Nobody should have known about it, much less an entire military division. As far as he knew, none of the world leaders knew about the magical world. Not even the Queen of England, where the largest magical association was located, was privy to those kinds of information.

Whatever the case may be, the nazi military was certainly looking for the grail. Arming themselves and storming the city, everyone was forced to evacuate as the city descended into a battlefield. Battles at night along with secrecy had been all but forgotten, leaving him to work overtime to clean up with the messes that were left behind.

The war had been concluded in under a single week. Even with the power of the military, the servants still continued to fight each other and ignored the german army as they killed each other to fill the cup for the sake of a wish.

The city had descended into chaos and he had decided that enough was enough. Even if he was the mediator of the war, he couldn't sit back and watch as innocent civilians were caught in the crossfire. Forsaking his duties, he gathered the agents of the church and ordered for an immediate rescue mission for any survivors.

Leaving his duties behind, however, had made him powerless to stop what happened next.

On the last days of the war, when the final two servants fought to the death for the Holy Grail, the army had begun to pull out of allied territory with the Holy Grail aboard a transport carrier. While everyone else had been too busy with saving civilians, they had swooped in and took the grail for themselves at the last second before a victor could have been decided. As of now, the holy artifact's whereabouts are unknown.

Putting his face in his hands, he gave out a weary sigh. The church had certainly been upset with him. The war in Europe was affecting everyone. Even the Church wasn't an exception despite their power. Having the Holy Grail in the hands of a crazy maniac who wished to make Germany the greatest empire in the world would certainly be disastrous for the world in general.

He would be getting another earful from the Vatican later, but they were too busy trying to track down the grail. In the meantime, he was to remain in Fuyuki until the next set of orders and assist with rebuilding the city.

He didn't want to think about the amount of paperwork he would be getting in the future. A mess like this doesn't just go away with a wave of the hand, even with magecraft.

A loud knock at the door brought him out of his hands as a young man in priestly robes entered the room with a cup of warm coffee in each hands. Despite his garbs, he looked way too young to be a priest and seemed to be in his early twenties at least.

"Kotomine-san." The young man greeted with a smile. "I've brought you coffee."

A small smile formed on his tired face as the young man placed the mug on the table. "Thank you... Shirou-san. The drink is much appreciated."

The young man known as Shirou simply nodded while he continued to flash that same smile. It truly was a real one, though it also felt different somehow. Odd, but Risei never choose to comment on it out of politeness.

After all, this young man was a special one.

"So have you figured out what you're going to do from now on?" He asked, silently curious as to what his answer may be.

"Mmm... Perhaps I'll give up on the grail." The kid answered, absently fiddling with the cross necklace that he had recently acquired. "After all... It'll most likely be impossible to find. If the Church hasn't already found it by now, I doubt anyone will."

Risei nodded. "Nazi Germany is falling apart and the allies are pushing them back inwards. No reports of a mysterious cup showed up and none of the Church investigators found anything. As of now, the location of the Holy Grail is unknown."

"I see. A shame." Shirou mused to himself, seemingly unconcerned with the news. "Well... It's nothing that can be replaced. For all we know, the future generation might come up with a convincing replica."

The two men chuckled to themselves. What a laughable expectation. The Holy Grail was a powerful artifact created by those who could be considered monsters and geniuses. No magus in the present era could ever attempt to create a magical artifact on that scale. It would take several generations full of prodigies to even consider attempting reconstruction of such an artifact.

"So I believe that I will need to acclimate myself to this new world." Shirou said as he set his mug down on the desk. "The world has changed quite a lot since my time and I would very much love to see it with my own eyes."

"I believe I could help you with that." Risei said as he pulled out a file from the drawer and placed it on the desk. "If I recall correctly, they didn't have any prominent missionaries in Japan correct?"

"There were only a handful, really. Why?" Shirou asked curiously.

"Well... The Church has really expanded its roots since your time. Nowadays, we have many branches, missionaries, and churches across the world." He tapped his finger on the file. "Of course... we also offer other services rather than charity and goodwill. Services that someone like you can provide."

Shirou raised an eyebrow, his curiosity peaked.

"Interesting... Would you mind telling me more?"

* * *

Three years had passed since the Nazis had sacked Fuyuki city and all traces of the war have been covered up by the combined efforts of the government and the Red Cross. Thanks to them and the newly found peace after the war, the people have continued with their daily lives without the fear of death hanging above them.

Publicly at least.

Behind the scenes, the scars of the war still lingered. The stench of regret and death were still felt heavily across the city to the present day. Mages do not dare to set foot in this land as it has begun to gain fame as one of the most dangerous places in the magical world.

In the years following the war, dead apostles flocked to the area in great numbers. Thanks to the carnage and destruction World War II created, the Church had to often work overtime just to control the sudden outbreaks of Dead Apostles around the world. They were attracted to the area like moths to a flame, feeding off of the negative emotions as a source to increase their power.

Thus, the Church has often kept watch on the city. Dead Apostles were their personal business and they wouldn't stand by idly if a large number of undead began converging at a single location. It was too dangerous to simply leave the problem alone.

And it got even more dangerous at night.

It was rare for dead apostles to attack and feed during the daytime. Only the most bold of those would try to do so, as they are weakened considerably during the day. Come nighttime however, they no longer are bound by restrictions to their powers and are able to feast to their hearts content.

So as the sun falls over Fuyuki city and the white moon rises, the time of feasting begins.

* * *

The streets of Fuyuki City were hardly thriving. Despite the fact that the Church has worked hard to cover up the crimes of the Dead Apostles, it was clear that the public knew that there was something wrong. While they might not know exactly what it was, they often kept off of the street at night and even had a minor curfew hour at work.

Despite this, it didn't really do anything to stop the amount of Dead Apostle attacks. After all, a simple curfew only made their feasting easier.

In the darkness above, a man with red eyes was perched atop a windowsill silently. While it may have the form of a man, it was certainly far from it. It was only a shell of its former self, before the time it turned into what it was.

It may have once been a successful magus. It may have also been a regular human being. However, it was now a creature who only searched for blood. Blood was the currency of the soul, of which it can sustain the existence of an individual.

The younger a person was, the fresher their blood would be. As such, young children were often the primary targets of Dead Apostles. Even young teenagers were prime candidates.

And right now, there was a delectable slab of meat walking down the street.

The Vampire's eyes narrowed as it followed the form of a young man with red hair who was walking briskly. It was clear he was in a hurry to get home, his bag shifting around his shoulder sporadically. That was good. Fear was a delectable source of energy as well. It made the act of sucking blood more enjoyable.

Within the span of a single breath, the monster leapt through the air with the speed and power that should have been physically impossible from a simple standing start. Almost as if sensing danger, the redhead suddenly spun around with his eyes widening in surprise.

"Wha-"

The boy was abruptly cut off as the Dead Apostle opened its mouth and sank its teeth into the side of the boy's neck. Screaming, the boy fell backwards with the vampire connected, suddenly feeling very faint as if he was suffering from dehydration.

His throat burned and he tried to scream desperately, though nothing more than a hoarse wheeze got out. Feeling panic begin to set in, he began to punch and kick wildly in the hopes of getting his attacker off of him. Still, he found it incredibly useless. Simply punching the creature was like trying to bend steel. It was physically impossible.

The Dead Apostle felt a sense of glee as the boy continued to struggle against it. The feeling of his useless punches and kicks as they failed to do anything to its body was satisfying. Absolutely satisfying.

However, it would have to finish up like all of its other meals. The blood was good, but adequate. It would take a few more meals before it would be satisfied.

It suddenly hissed as a stray fist smacked its face.

"Stay still, boy. Let me finish this meal. Afterwards, you can pass on to the next world peacefully... Unless you become a ghoul of course."

The boy's eyes began to turn cloudy and unfocused until his hands finally went limp and they fell uselessly to his side. He still looked to be conscious, but was unable to move due to the loss of blood.

"Good boy."

Before he could draw the last of his blood, however, a sudden crack rang out from behind him.

*BANG*

The young man's eyes refocused as the sound reached his ears and he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Looking to the side, he saw his attacker staggering backwards with its hands clutching its shoulder.

"What?!" The Dead Apostle hissed as it began staggering backwards. "Impossible! I was sure that I had covered my tra-"

*BANG* *BANG*

The monster howled in pain before it lumbered into a nearby ally with blood pouring out of its wounds. Even in its current state, its self-preservation instincts kicked in and it was still able to break into a run without any problem despite the injuries it had sustained.

In its panic, it had left the young man alone. Alive, but barely. Even so, it didn't matter. Judging by how slow the injuries were taking to heal, it had been struck by holy bullets or enchantments. Therefore, it was being targeted by members of the Church.

Even if a Dead Apostle was normally stronger than the average executioner, the holy weapons they had at their disposal threatened their existence down to the very cell. It would be best to avoid direct confrontation with the enem-

The Dead Apostle gasped as it felt itself frozen in place. It could feel its muscles strain in desperation to move, but it felt like an unbelievable cramp was setting in. With a great amount of effort, it craned its neck to try and look at what was causing such a reaction. As it did so, it's eyes widened when it caught sight of a bladed object that had pierced its shadow like a nail.

"W-what?!"

It was a black key. Basic holy weapons that were utilized by the church. They were used as throwing weapons despite how long the blade was. In the hands of a skilled user, it could easily pierce through steel and rend the flesh of an undead.

They also had a multitude of passive effects that assisted in catching dead apostles.

Like stopping a target by impaling its shadow.

The Dead Apostle's eyes widened when he felt a shadow drop over him. Looking up, he saw a blue haired woman in a grey cloak with a golden cross land on the pavement. In between her two fingers were black keys, poised to strike and be thrown at a moments notice.

In the span of a second, it's previous bravado was gone and replaced with an emotion completely foreign to it as it recognized who it was that had appeared.

"No... It can't be..." The vampire muttered in disbelief. "A member of the burial agency... Blue hair... You can't be Agent Bo-"

Those were the last words the monster spoke before several blades lodged themselves into its head.

* * *

Shirou...

That was his name. He was a simple sixteen year old boy who attended a simple High School in Fuyuki City. He had no family. At least, none that he was aware of. He was an orphan and had no know parents to speak of. When he asked those who had run the orphanage, he never got a clear answer for his question.

So it was obviously odd that he could be dressed like a high school student and even attend a high school. After all, the orphanage always had kids coming in and out every day. They never had the money to truly pay for an education and could only supply everyone with the basic essentials for living like food and shelter. Education was sadly not a part of the list.

But when the orphanage begun getting large sums of money for no reason, that all changed. Everyone had managed to actually pay for their education and cover taxes without a problem. The amount of money was so large that it was a miracle that someone had decided to donate so much.

At least, that's what the staff thought.

In truth, he had discreetly sent them the money himself. How he got ahold of said money was actually something he still could never believe to this day...

But he had more important matters to think about right now. Like the fact that he was bleeding out on the cold asphalt and could barely stay conscious.

He had known it would be dangerous to traverse the streets at night, but he didn't think this would have happened to him. What the hell was that thing anyway? A damn vampire?

Craning his neck downwards, he stared at the two puncture wounds on his neck that were spurting blood. Yeah. It probably was the most logical decision he could come up with.

Coughing, he rolled onto his stomach and tried to push himself up. He needed to get out of here. He was lucky that someone had driven the monster off. Whether they were doing it out of the goodness of their hearts or not was questionable. He needed to play it safe.

However, he soon found out just how useless his body had become. Trying to push himself up was like trying to benchpress an elephant. It just wasn't physically possible.

After several attempts of trying to get up, he soon gave up and collapsed onto a pool of his own blood. Laying there silently, he stared into the reflection gazing back at him from the puddle. For some odd reason, however, he noticed something completely different about himself.

His hair had turned grey.

Surprise gave way to horror as he stared at himself. What had his attacker done to him? He was sure he had been a redhead before!

 _"You're dying."_

He froze. A voice. Some kind of voice was speaking up in the depths of his mind. It was barely louder than a whisper, but he could hear it clearly. Despite his senses going haywire with panic, he decided to listen.

 _"Your body is beyond saving. No doctor on this earth can save you now. You have lost too much blood and your body is breaking down."_

A gasp wormed its way out of his throat. Impossible. He can be saved. He can be healed. There was a small chance, but it was there. All he needed was a blood transfusion and he-

 _"Blood is the currency of the soul, from which all life is powered by. No one will be able to save you in time. You must replenish yourself through other means."_

Replenish... himself? His eyes widened and he squirmed to pull his arm out from underneath him. With a little bit of effort, he pried his arm out and cupped his hand in front of his face. Despite how odd it may have seemed, he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Whatever his heart wanted the most, it would appear in front of him. It was how he got the money for the orphanage after all. He couldn't really explain it. He had discovered it accidentally in a moment of desperation, but simply discovering it had led to amazing possibilities.

He kept a secret from his friends and the staff members. It wasn't something he could explain to them. Hell, he couldn't exactly explain it to himself either. However, the gist of it was that it allowed him to create something out of nothing.

And lo and behold, a glass cup appeared in his hands filled to the brim with blood. Without stoping to think about what he was doing, he raised the cup to his lips and drank.

He would have thrown up if he wasn't in such a dire situation, but he oddly found himself getting better. The fatigue and lightness his body felt was going away and were replaced with much more healthy feelings.

With a few more gulps of blood, he actually felt like his old self again. Deciding to just make sure, he attempted to move his legs and arms and began to push himself off of the ground. Grinning, he inwardly celebrated over his ability to cheat death before a voice rang out from his side.

"Stop moving."

Shirou froze as he felt the cold edge of a blade rest on the back of his neck. Slowly, he began lowering himself back down to the ground and inwardly cursed himself. Nothing could ever go right for him.

As he laid down on the ground, he heard the shuffling of boots as his second unknown assailant stepped in front of him. It was a girl with blue hair and a golden cross around her neck. Despite the blade she had pointed down at him, she had a very perplexed look on her face.

"..."

"..."

The two of them stared at each other for a moment in silence, and Shirou shifted awkwardly under her gaze. This was by far the third weirdest thing that has ever happened to him.

 _"Why me?"_ He thought in anguish.

Finally the girl spoke, almost as if God decided to answer his question.

"Come with me. I'm going to get you some help." She spoke, her tone giving no room for argument. In a flash, the blade disappeared from her hand and she briskly walked past him.

Shirou blinked and watched her walk for a couple seconds before standing up and following after her.

Yep... This was definitely the weirdest night ever.

* * *

"Welcome back, Agent Bow."

A young boy with a white shirt with golden accents and black pants greeted the blue haired girl as the pair walked through the doors of the Fuyuki City Church. His face was youthful, but it also seemed fake in an unknown sense. It was oddly disturbing.

"Thank you, Crown." The blue haired girl nodded politely while Shirou remained silent. It was clear he was very out of place here.

"You returned earlier than expected. The others are still dealing with other random attack and shouldn't return until the next hour or so." The child then turned its head towards Shirou, who flinched. "And who is he? Don't tell me that it's another potential boyfriend of yours?"

"Can it, Crown. I'm not in the mood for your games." The girl growled in an annoyed tone. "You already know exactly why he's here. Your rats should have already informed you."

The boy shrugged, an eery smile on his face. "True, true. It's just that even I cannot believe it myself. We've stumbled upon a rare form of vampire birth."

At this, Shirou couldn't contain his voice anymore.

"Hold up... Vampire Birth? Are you saying that I'm a-"

He froze as the two of them turned to look at him. Contrast to the blue haired girl's glare, the boy looked quite amused and intrigued at the same time. Thankfully, he was the one who spoke first before the girl had a chance to presumingly yell at him.

"Indeed. Though it's actually pretty rare for something like this to happen. Your case is a special one." The boy stepped forward and extended his hand in greeting. "For troublesome reasons, I can't give you my name right now. Please just call me Crown."

Shirou blinked at that, but still shook his hand. "Um... ok. I'm Shirou."

"Shirou? No last name?"

"I'm an orphan... so no."

"Ah... My mistake." The boy apologized, though he honestly didn't seem too bothered by that. He gestured over to the girl. "That's Agent Bow. We can't discuss her name either so please just call her that."

The girl huffed and walked out of the room, clearly not willing to stay and talk.

"...She's like that a lot. Don't worry about it." Crown smiled as Shirou gained a depressed look.

"Oh... ok." He mumbled, a visible cloud of gloom over his head.

"Anyway, you must be wondering just exactly what it was that happened to you, correct?" At Shirou's nod, Crown continued on. "Well, it's actually just like you figured out. You have become a vampire. A creature that walks in the night."

Shirou paled, but he didn't fall out of his seat. The idea had been gnawing at the back of his mind for some time, but it was simply too crazy for him to even truly consider.

"But... aren't vampires a myth started by Dracula?" He mumbled, his mind scrambling to find answers.

"It's understandable you'd be surprise. Vampires are often thought to be a myth." The boy shrugged. "Well, they're not. They do plague society, though it's only under the cover of night and under many forms of secrecy. You don't know how often we have to cover these kinds of incidents when they happen. If word of such things got out, the whole world would be up in arms."

The boy folded his hands and took a seat in a nearby pew. "Though that now brings me to our little predicament."

Shirou tensed. He had a bad feeling about where this was going.

"You yourself are now a dead apostle. Thus, an enemy our organization will no doubt seek to destroy. I know you're an innocent bystander who was dragged into this mess, but the others do not distinguished the good from the bad. In their minds, vampires are beings who need to be destroyed. You're lucky Agent Bow was the one who found you or you wouldn't be standing here now."

And just like that, Shirou felt like fainting.

"So I'm nothing more than a freak, huh?" He muttered. "So I guess that makes me an enemy of humans? I'm supposed to suck blood for a living?"

"Pretty much, yeah. That's how vampires survive." Crown shrugged. "Although I truly am curious. How did you manage to survive back there? I know for a fact that Agent Bow would never donate her blood to a vampire, so how exactly did you replenish yourself? Drinking your own blood doesn't exactly count."

Shirou fidgeted slightly, contemplating whether or not he should tell him. It's not like he had anything to loose, and the boy had been quite hospitable. At least, far more than that Bow girl. It was only right he at least answered his question.

"I... made blood for myself."

This time, it was Crown's turn to blink in confusion.

"You made blood... for yourself?" The boy asked slowly, a clear tone of disbelief. "Forgive me if this sounds rude, but that sounds impossible."

"But it's true!" Shirou exclaimed, suddenly feeling very defensive. "It's just some special talent I have that I only figured out how to use two years ago. I'm not sure what its limits are, but I can create anything if I put my mind to it!"

Crown was silent for a moment, his eyes conveying a sense of thought as if he were suddenly realizing something. "Then if you don't mind... Could you give me a little demonstration?"

Shirou nodded. "Yeah, sure. Give me a second."

Stepping back, he closed his eyes and began focusing on an image he had drawn up in his mind. From what he could gather, his ability only required him to picture what he wanted. Afterwards, he could bring it into reality just by focusing a little bit harder.

There was a small shimmer of light and a golden necklace in the form of a cross appeared in his hand. Looking up, he saw that Crown's eyes had widened in shock and inwardly smiled in triumph.

"See? I told you." He grinned as he tossed the necklace to Crown, who caught it and immediately began studying it intently. Front and back, side to side, his eyes continued to widen with every passing second.

"It's flawless..." Crown muttered in awe. "Not a single spot is imperfect or of lower quality. Could it be..."

Shirou watched the boy silently as a thousand thoughts passed through his head. There was no mistaking this power. It was the **Denial of Nothingness.** A long lost magic that allows for the creation of something from nothing. It is known as the First True Magic and one of the most powerful. While other true magics were created to get to the Root, this one was acquired directly from the divine records. Its ability was unfathomable, only limited by the imagination of the user. If the boy had such an ability while being a dead apostle...

He could potentially, no, most certainly enter the ranks of the twenty seven dead apostles. The strongest of vampires who were ranked according to the threat they pose to humanity.

The wielder of the second magic was also a dead apostle himself and nobody has ever dared to attempt to claim his spot. However, he was whimsical and dangerous even if he was usually on the side of good. If they had a true magic user on their side though...

"Say Shirou, you said you were an orphan correct?" He asked suddenly, earning a blink from the teen.

"Um... Yeah? What about it?" Shirou answered with a slightly nervous tone. He suddenly didn't like where this was going.

"And you don't have anyone who may come looking for you, correct?" The boy pressed on intently.

He really didn't like where this was going.

"The staff members at the orphanage might. I'm on a first name basis with pretty much all of them." Shirou paused. "Why? Are you planning to kill me or something?"

"What? No! I wouldn't do something like that to you! You're an innocent human being!" Crown promised with an innocent look. _"And you'd be a wonderful asset"_ simply went unsaid. "I just simply want to offer you a deal."

"A deal?" Shirou echoed curiously.

"Yeah, a deal. While I may not kill you today, there are others who are more than willing to eliminate you on sight. Some of them are freaks more terrifying than vampires. Trust me. I would know."

He paused for a moment, ignoring Shirou's mouth which was hanging open like a fish. "However... I would be able to grant you a form of protection. Under my care, nobody will dare to harm you. After all, I'm quite the influential individual."

"Aren't you a kid?" Shirou asked without thinking. Despite this, the boy only chuckled.

"Kid? I'm way older than you'd think. I honestly forgot how old I am at this point." The boy stood up from the pew and turned to Shirou with an insistent look. "Now... do you accept or not? Choosing not to accept is fine, though I wish you luck with survival. Not everyone is interested in protecting civilian lives, boy."

For the first time since their discussion, Shirou's expression actually hardened. For some reason, the thought of other people getting hurt bothered him more than actually being in danger. He couldn't explain it, but he simply chalked it down to simple guilt. That was it. He would certainly feel guilty if innocent people were harmed due to his presence. Even more so if they were people he were close with.

The boy wanted him for some reason, that reason was clear. Otherwise, Shirou doubted he would have even bothered to give him a deal out of the goodness of his heart. He made this deal with the goal of getting something out of him.

Thus... there really wasn't any room for him decline. If he did, his body may soon find itself on the other end of a blade.

"I... Accept."

If the boy's smile was any indication, he had just sold his soul to the devil.

"Then I welcome you into the Church, Shirou. May the Lord in Heaven bless you in servitude."

* * *

 **Apocrypha timeline in another reality. In here, Shirou isn't corrupted by the Fuyuki fire and thus doesn't have his entire origin or history rewritten by the Grail's influence.**

 **If you're wondering why I have decided to have this Shirou be able to use the Denial of Nothingness, keep in mind that this isn't a Shirou who was in the Fuyuki Fire or has Avalon to change his origin. It's been stated somewhere before that Shirou's projection magecraft is actually a step below the Denial of Nothingness. I can't remember where it is stated since I haven't red the VN in years. You can try searching it online or something.**

 **Basically, Projection magecraft allows Shirou to materialize weapons and other objects by creating them with his prana. However, they are flawed and the World begins to crush its existence due to this. That is why his noble phantasms are a rank down and he can't keep them materialized outside of battle.**

 **The Denial of Nothingness, however, is several steps above this. Basically, it's the ability to create something out of nothing. The original description is quite complicated, but that's pretty much it. He can make swords, bows, furniture, weapons, or anything materialistic as long as he can imagine it.** **It's like the green lantern power ring except that it makes real constructs instead of light projections.**

 **So please try to keep this in mind while reading. I'd rather not reply to questions I have already answered.**

 **Anyways, see you in the next chapter! It should come out soon!**


	2. Man of God

"You'll need to pick someone soon you know. It wouldn't do to not have a patron when you go through your rite of passage."

"I know... I just can't decide on who I should pick. There's too many of them, and they're all so cool..."

Shirou moaned as he laid his head atop the pages of an open book. All around him, entire grimoires and books had been piled up upon one another in messy stacks. Each of their covers were written in different languages, though they each had the name of a famous saint on the cover.

"Why can't I just pick Saint Patrick?" Shirou complained as he turned towards his senior, who was giving him an annoyed look.

"Because he's my saint, Shirou. I can't let you have the same saint as me while we're working together. It's not unique." The blue haired girl sighed and shook her head. "Just pick one that's not Saint Patrick. Honestly, it's not that hard."

"Only you would be bothered by uniqueness, Ciel-Sempai." Shirou pouted.

If anyone were to have seen them, they would honestly have a hard time believing that the blue haired girl was one of the Church's most dangerous killers when it comes to hunting dead apostles, a Burial Agency member who mostly had no need for jurisdiction. It was Shirou's first impression of her when she was designated as his senior handler. Needless to say, she wasn't happy with her new role and had actually attempted to kill him several times in their early years.

Her spartan training regime and constant abuse was daily, but he always took it without complaining. In fact, he often exceeded her expectations and was almost at her level of skill when it came to martial arts or combat.

After six months of abuse, they actually managed to hold a conversation for a bit during one of their days off. Surprisingly, they had more in common than what they had originally thought. She, while human, had been an incarnation of a powerful Dead Apostle named Roa. Due to this, she gained a form of complete immortality that prevented her from dying no matter what you did to her. However, it also made her feel much more distant from everyone else since she was as much of a freak as the dead apostles she hunts.

Of course Shirou, being one to never hold a grudge, had pointed out the similarities between them. The fact that they were monsters, the fact that they were magi, and the fact that they both had their previous lives taken away from them were only a few he had provided, but it had been enough to prove a point. Ever since then, she actually took her job more seriously and eased up more on breaking his bones. It had been a very welcome change for him.

Eventually, they came to see each other as siblings of sorts and have been inseparable ever since. It was an odd relationship that the rest of the Church acknowledge, though they didn't mind. In fact, they seemed to welcome it as Shirou was the only one who could keep her strange curry obsession down with his godly cooking.

As of now, she was helping him prepare himself for the last step to becoming a true member of the catholic faith known as Confirmation. They were supposed to pick a saint who would be designated as his spiritual guide on his time on earth like a second guardian angel. However, Shirou had been extremely picky with his choice of a saint. She didn't know why. She had randomly chosen Saint Patrick out of a book of saints and she wasn't at all bothered by it, though Shirou was an odd duck when it comes to these things.

Even if his body had been morphed into a Dead Apostle, Shirou acted more human than most of the people he worked with. Normally, such actions would be frowned upon by the other executioners and dead apostle hunters in the business, but Shirou's own fame and unique power made it impossible for anyone to confront him about it.

Due to his ability to create objects from nothing, he earned the nickname of 'Blacksmith', 'Successor of the First', and even more comically, 'The Money Printer' due to the fact that he once created millions of dollars to help secretly take care of a small financial crisis some sections of the church were experiencing.

He was a bro like that.

"How about this one?" She picked up another book. This time with writing in greek. "Saint Nicholas? He's pretty famous. He became the basis for Santa Claus in the west."

"No... Not him. He's for little kids." Shirou mumbled as he shoved the book away and stood up. "I think I'm going to take a break for now. Besides, I have all the time in the world to decide on a saint and I haven't even researched half of them." He suddenly blinked as a stack of books with a coffee mug on top teetered over as his hand brushed against the stack.

"Oops." He muttered as he bent over to clean up his mess.

Ciel sighed in exasperation and simply continued to talk. "You don't need to research intensively into a saint to pick one for confirmation. Any single one of them would do."

"Maybe for you Ciel-Sempai, but this is important to me." Shirou said with a deadpan look, earning a groan from the girl.

"Whatever you say. Just don't expect me to help you put all of these books away when you're done."

"Mhm... Sure." Shirou murmured as he finished collecting all of the books and placing them in a neat stack atop his desk. Opening his hand, he casually created some wipes to clean the stain on the floor, but stopped as a sudden noise resounded through the room.

*Knock* *Knock*

"Shirou? Are you in there?"

Shirou relaxed as he recognized that voice. After all, how could he ever forget the voice of one of his closest friends?

"Yeah, I'm here. You can come in."

The door opened, and the boy who went by the code name of 'Crown' walked in. His regular smile was still on his face, though Shirou could tell that it was much more real now than the first time they met. Now that he was a part of the Church, they had no need to keep their true names hidden from each other.

His true name was **Merem Solomon** , one of the legendary 27 dead apostle ancestors. He was also one of the oldest despite his young appearances, having met the Crimson Moon during his human life. While his appearance was common to him, most members of the Church don't actually know of this form due to the fact that he often interacted with others using his demons.

Yes, his demons. Both of his arms and legs were actually not real appendages, but were actually demons who were created to serve as his limbs after he lost them long ago. One of them wasn't really worth much in terms of combat, but the other three limbs were powerful enough to contend with the other dead apostle ancestors. As a general rule though, he doesn't tend to use them all at once unless he was serious.

"Good evening you two." Merem greeted politely.

"Hello Merem-sempai." Shirou replied, bowing politely and earning a chuckle from the Ancestor.

"No need to be so formal, Shirou. We're both Ancestors now and there is nothing left for me to teach you. Just call me Merem."

"But you're still higher than me on the hierarchy, Merem-sempai. It's only natural that I do so."

Merem was very well known in the magical world, as everyone knows him as the only Ancestor who willingly cooperates with the Church to capture his own kind. So when word got out that he had taken in a dead apostle as a student of sorts, it spread like wildfire. When it soon came to light that his apprentice was able to use the First True Magic, that's when people began to take it seriously. A magician was dangerous on their own and usually played by their own rules, serving no one but themselves. If it was true that the Church actually managed to get ahold of one...

The difference in power would tip towards the Church and increase their influence by tenfold. It only became more apparent over the next few years when Shirou began taking more dangerous missions and succeeding without fail. His fame increasing to the point where the other Dead Apostle Ancestors noticed, earning him the designation of number 22 among the 27 Dead Aposlte Ancestors despite barely being out of his infancy by their standards.

It's incredible how utterly terrifying magic actually is.

"Your rank is only a formality, Shirou. You should most certainly be higher up on the list." Merem said with a shake of his head. "Even I admit that you're stronger than me. For what it's worth, you might even give my princess a run for her money. So please, just call me Merem. We've known each other long enough anyway."

Shirou looked like he wanted to protest, but he faltered when Ciel gave him an imposing glare. She knew he was quite the gentleman, but she didn't want her little brother to become a freaking goody two shoes. It would shame her as his acting charge.

"Fine..." He mumbled, conceding defeat. He could never argue with her.

"Why are you here anyway, Merem?" Ciel asked, ignoring Shirou's moping. "It's rare for you to step out of your quarters. Something catch your attention?"

At this, the normally cheery face the boy had turned serious. "Yes, actually. I've just received some important news from the higher ups that I believe the two of you need to hear. Come with me, please."

* * *

"The mission was a failure, Lady Barthomeloi."

The middle aged magus began sweating as he felt the glare of the female woman increase tenfold at his words. Inwardly, he cursed himself for his crappy luck at having to be the one to personally deliver the message. If they hadn't offered him money, he would have been long gone by now.

"A failure, you say?" The woman growled, causing the Magus' hair to stand up on end. "How embarrassing... To think that 50 of our best hunters failed in destroying this sad excuse for a magus family."

 _"T-This is the power of the Queen of the Clocktower..."_ The magus thought with fear as the pressure began doubling around the room in accordance with the woman's anger.

"I want a detailed report of the situation. Now." She ordered, her eyes glistening with anger.

"U-um..." The man stuttered as he began fumbling with a folder under his arm. "Well... The fifty hunters we sent to dispatch the Yggdmillenia were completely massacred. Only one of them managed to get out of there alive, but he's in critical condition. We fear he'll never be able to utilize magecraft again."

"These were all first class mages who were handpicked by me. How could they have been massacred so easily?!"

"W-well the survivor said that they had been attacked by a servant. A familiar of some kind, I think."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "A familiar? Preposterous. You're telling me that a familiar was capable of doing this?"

"Only the extraordinary ones. And right now, that is what we are dealing with."

From the doorway, a man with long black hair and a black suit casually strolled in with a lit cigar in his mouth. His posture was relaxed despite the heavy aura that was being emitted.

"El Melloi..." Barthomeloi's anger calmed down somewhat. "Come to offer your knowledge?'

"Please add the II. It's incredibly grating without it." The man muttered as he exhaled a small whiff of smoke. "As for what advice I have come to offer... I suggest that you take the situation more seriously, Barthomeloi. These aren't your simple dead apostles that you are so accustomed to hunting."

El Melloi's calm statement surprised Barthomeloi a little. Unlike anyone else, the man has never once given her a lie. Everything he says is logical and has often proved to be correct on several different occasions. Thus, she took his suggestions rather seriously compared to everyone else.

"Continue." She beckoned.

"The Grail the Yggdmillenia have in their possession is indeed an all-powerful cup that can grant the desires of its wielders. It was created a long time ago by the Einzberns, Tohsakas, and Matous with the intent of reaching the Root. However, the system upon which it was founded required a large amount of prana to do so. Thus, the use of two true magics were used to create the means to gather such power." El Melloi II sighed. "It's a genius system, really. It summons a portion of a heroic spirit down to Earth with the intent of using their powers to activate the grail. Barbaric, but not at all uncommon amongst us, no?"

"Heroic spirits?" Barthomeloi's eyebrows rose.

"They're the spirits of those humanity calls heroes. Their forms are made of pure mystery, equaling those of the 27 ancestors. Unlike them, however, they have certain limitations that they need to accept." He lit another cigar.

"Do you think the Yggdmillenia would send one of these servants here to attack?"

"To be honest? I'm not completely sure. The head of that family is as unpredictable and as sly as a snake. No telling what he would do." El Melloi II shrugged. "The only way for us to combat them now would be to gather up a force and summon our own heroic spirits. However, I doubt the Yggdmillenia would let us do so. Seven servants can only be sustained at a given time and they must have already chosen candidates to fill in the spots."

"Actually... I think there's another part of the report you might want to hear about." The magus noted, drawing the other two magi as he pulled out a folder filled with papers and began flipping through it. "Says here that the last surviving member of the squad we sent was able to activate something called the 'Reserve System'. Doesn't explain what it is, though."

El-Melloi looked miffed. "Really? What the hell are they playing at?"

Barthomeloi gave him an annoyed look. "Explain."

"Well you see..."

* * *

"So you're saying that the Holy Grail has been found..." Ciel muttered as she processed the information Merem had just dumped on them.

"Indeed. It's located in Romania, the heart of the Magi house known as the Yggdmillenia." Merem confirmed with a nod, though his expression was one of excitement rather than concern. "Isn't it amazing? It has almost been fifty years since the grail had vanished and it chooses now to resurface."

"In the hands of a radical family with a pathological liar as their leader." Shirou pointed out. "I mean... shouldn't you be worried?"

Merem snorted. "Worried? No. Concerned? Perhaps. Excited? I most certainly am. A legendary artifact created by number 4, while not the real deal, is still a powerful device. I must have something like that in my collection!"

Shirou and Ciel rolled their eyes. It was a very well known reason around the Church that Merem only hung around because he wanted to be close to all of the mystical artifacts the Church has stored and kept hidden from the public. An avid collector since long ago, he takes pleasure in seeking new things that catch his fancy.

It has almost become a weakness of his. It wasn't uncommon for someone to bribe their way out of his grasp through bartering whatever valuables they have stored up.

"So what does the Church want us to do? A retrieval mission?" Ciel asked.

"A mission of that kind, yes. They've already sent in a member from the 8th sacrament to assist the Mage Association with retrieving the cup. I believe you've heard of Shirou Kotomine?"

Shirou and Ciel's eyes widened in surprise, earning a chuckle from the boy.

"Yeah... They sent him in. It's a code 10 emergency, after all."

Shirou Kotomine was one of the unknowns in the agency, even to Merem himself. All that was known was that he was the adoptive son of the late Risei Kotomine and was appointed to the sector that regulates and controls Holy Artifacts.

He was also scarily close to the top of the hierarchy when it comes to slaying dead apostles. His black keys, which were powerful holy sacraments of the Church, are abnormally more powerful than usual. It was at the point where even Merem himself had claimed him to be an 'Ultimate Killer of the Undead'.

Fitting how the only two people named 'Shirou' in the entire organization would be abnormally powerful in their field.

"Wait... Are you saying that he's working with the Mage Association? Don't we hate them or something?" Shirou asked with a curious look.

"Well, yeah, I guess. We're not exactly on good terms with each other." Merem shrugged. "But we cannot exclude each other from something like this. Mages will always desire that cup and we can't ignore it due to sharing the same name as the Holy Chalice. Therefore, we shall work with each other until the chalice is secured from the hands of the Yggdmillenia."

"But why call for us if they have a man on the ground?" Ciel asked with raised eyebrows. "Does he need backup of some sort?"

At this, Merem's expression turned sour. "No... Not really. He'll be fine on his own. However, I simply wish to have a direct line of eyes and ears on the ground that I can trust."

It didn't even take them a full second to realize what he meant.

"You just want the cup for yourself, huh?" Shirou accused with a deadpan look, earning nothing but a grin in response.

Ciel shook her head. "Honestly... Sneaking behind the Church's back is a bad idea."

"What? It's not like they really care. They just want to one-up the Mage's Association." Merem said with a dismissive wave. "So what do you guys say, huh? Are you up for the challenge?"

Despite himself, Shirou actually nodded. "Sure, why not? It sounds exciting. What about you, Ciel-Sempai?"

"Um..." Ciel had her eyes closed in thought for a moment before shaking her head. "No. Sorry. I can't join you two this time. I have to go out and hunt for Roa soon. His last incarnation died four months ago and I need to get back on his trail."

"Ah, yes. That's right. You still have yet to make the Serpent pay for his crimes against you." Merem murmured. "Well... That's fine. Shirou will be enough for me. Do as you please."

"Awww..." Shirou gave Ciel a pout, causing the girl to roll her eyes in exasperation.

"Don't be like that, Shirou. I'll try to hook up with you if my job ends sooner than expected. Until then, you're on your own." Ciel said as she gave him a gentle pat on the back.

Still, it did nothing to quell Shirou's displeasure. Hanging out with Merem wasn't bad, but he could get really annoying when he wanted to without Ciel to reign him in.

He could only pray to the Lord in Heaven that he could put up with him for the next week or so.

* * *

SEARCH ... BEGIN  
SEARCH ... COMPLETE

PERFECT MATCH.

PHYSICAL BUILD ... COMPATIBLE  
SPIRITUAL BUILD ... COMPATIBLE  
PERSONALITY ... COMPATIBLE  
PRANA ... COMPATIBLE

BEGIN POSSESSION VIA PROVISIONAL SEALING OF FORMER PERSONALITY AND SPIRITUAL INSTALLATION OF HEROIC SPIRIT.

FORMER PERSONALITY CLEARANCE ... RECEIVED  
CROSS-DOMAIN BASE ANATOMY BACKUP ... BEGIN

INSTALLATION COMPLETE.

BEGIN ADAPTATION OF PHYSICAL BUILD AND SPIRITUAL BUILD.

ASSIGNMENT OF CLASS SKILLS ... BEGIN

BEGIN INSERTION OF DATA PERTAINING TO ALL HEROIC SPIRITS AND MODERN ERA AS REQUIRED.

BACKUP ... COMPLETE

CLASS SKILL ASSIGNED. SKILL {SAINTHOOD} OPTION {HOLY SHROUD CREATION} CHOSEN.

INSERTION OF REQUIRED DATA COMPLETE.

ADAPTATION COMPLETE.

ALL CLEAR.

CLASS {RULER} SERVANT ACTUALIZATION COMPLETE.

She opened her eyes. The means by which she was summoned were so very unusual... There is no precedent for a summoning where the summoned is so weakly linked to the present world. Is it because this Great Holy Grail War is just so irregular?

The girl had somehow managed to take form in the world. There are no problems with her specifications, either... but this body is unmistakably that of a French girl's. What's more, she possessed the majority of _her_ memories. Yet rather than having two personalities in one body - a so-called split personality - it would be more accurate to say both personalities have merged into one. Perhaps due to her own acuteness and deep conviction of faith, _she_ has recognized and completely accepted 'La Pucelle' within her.

"...Please lend me your body for a while, Laeticia."

The girl said to the owner of the body.

Having decided on her first task, the girl greeted 'her' friend - moving to the other bed and shaking her. After some groaning, she woke up and rubbed her eyes, looking half-awake.

" _Mmn... w-what...?_ "

She was so clearly drowsy that the girl felt bad for waking her, but she spoke clearly.

"I will be leaving here for some time."

Perhaps not understanding the seriousness of the girl's words, she fell back onto the bed while waving her hand in farewell - then flung away her sheets a few seconds later and shouted.

"What did you just say?!"

"I'm sorry for leaving so suddenly, but time is of the essence."

"What? What essence? What is this, all of a sudden - you just said 'Good night' and 'See you tomorrow'! What are you saying?!"

The girl looked at her bewildered - and loud - friend with earnest and told her three things:

 _'I'm going on a long trip.'_

'I absolutely must go.'

'Don't worry.'

Her friend listened to those words with a blank expression, her mouth hanging open, but finally nodded in understanding.

"All right... There's no helping it if you absolutely must..."

"That's right. I will explain this to the teachers."

"Well, okay... Good night, then."

"Good night."

The girl did not use thaumaturgy to cast a suggestion on her friend. But as Servant Ruler, she has the ability to make others believe in her words.

She told her teachers and friends that she must go on a journey and made them understand that it was absolutely necessary. She was probably being more forceful than she should but there was no way around it - so she sighed and pushed away such idle concerns.

Luckily, the owner of this body lived in a student dormitory far removed from her parents. It was unlikely that they would notice even if she were gone for a month.

Packing a change of clothes, her passport and some textbooks into her bag, she left the dormitory. The owner of this body... Laeticia is still a student. _She_ , on the other hand, came from the farmlands and never had the chance to learn to read and write - how strange it was to have been able to automatically acquire knowledge of modern languages, thanks to the Holy Grail.

"...Yet this is still all too strange."

She should have been summoned like any other Servant - actualized in the city where the battle would take place without needing to borrow the physical body of anyone else.

Nevertheless, she has been summoned this time via possession of another's flesh and what's more, she was summoned in her homeland - a France still with lingering vestiges of its past.

Besides, Ruler should have been the eighth Servant to be summoned - this time, she was the _fifteenth_ Servant. Among all the Holy Grail Wars of the past, the scale of this one is most likely the largest. Perhaps there was some accident during last large-scale Holy Grail War...

In any case - having already been summoned - the girl is determined to surmount all difficulties in order to carry out her mission.

She is **Jeanne d'Arc** \- the Master-less Servant of the **Ruler** class, and the absolute controller of the Holy Grail War. In God's name, she couldn't fail.


	3. Convergence in Romania

"Everything has been set into motion, my king."

Darnic Prestone Yggdmillenia bowed politely to a figure who was sitting regally atop a simple wooden throne. The figure's form was slightly elderly, having silver white hair and a poorly shaven goatee. His form was wrapped in aristocratic black clothing, making him seem like a figure who was straight out of a literary work.

In a sense, that's exactly what he was. He was **Vlad III** , the Impaling Lord of Romania who would eventually become the basis for the vampire Dracula under Bram Stoker's imagination. As a servant of the Holy Grail, he had been summoned as the Lancer class.

"Excellent. You've done well, Darnic." Lancer spoke, his thick Romania accent making his speech a little bit hard to follow on. "I can only wish that you would have been around during my time. With you advising me, Romania surely wouldn't have fallen to the Ottomans."

"You humble me, my king." Darnic bowed lower, even if it seemed like it was impossible. "However, I am merely an instrument to your will. Under your leadership, we will surely win the Holy Grail War."

"And that may be so..." Lancer nodded in agreement, though his expression turned serious. "...However, you are still my master. Upon your words and proclamations, I have descended from the Throne of Heroes to serve you. Refer to me as king if you must, but remember that I am still your servant."

Darnic was silent for a moment before nodding. "As you wish."

Lancer grunted, satisfied with getting his point across. "Now then... How long do we have before the Association responds?"

"A week at most. Maybe even less." Darnic smiled eerily. "As expected, the last survivor we sent back has done his job perfectly. They now know of the reserve system and are quickly gathering suitable candidates as we speak. My spies in the Clock Tower already count four masters who have been gathered. The other three will be found out as soon as possible."

"And what about the Church?"

"They've sent a representative from the Church to work with the Mage Association. Whoever it was they sent must have been buried deeply within their system. I couldn't get any information on them from my spies or my associates."

"Do you believe they will be a hinderance?" Lancer drummed his fingers atop his armrest. "I do not wish to be taken off guard. The Catholic Church from my time had plenty of vicious members."

"The organization isn't as powerful as it was back then, though they do have several members that could pose a threat to us directly. I do not believe they are willing to send them, though. After all, they've only ever seen the Grail war as a trifling matter. Only a single pair of eyes on the ground is good enough for them."

"But they are working with the Mages, are they not?"

Darnic snorted. "A temporary alliance. It is highly likely that they'll turn on each other and attempt to seize the cup for themselves. Provided that they beat us, of course."

"Then let us go forth with our final preparations. Even if it is against the Church or the Mages, we shall not go down without a fight. The Holy Grail will be ours and I shall use it to remove the taint that has been smeared upon my name!" Lancer declared as he rose from his throne.

"Ah yes... You still wish to go through with that." Darnic murmured.

"But of course. I cannot be forgiven for what I've done. The atrocities that I've committed throughout my life are mine and mine alone. However, I cannot stand being branded with a subject that has nothing to do with me!" Lancer shook his fist at the air dramatically. "I cannot forgive being associated with vampirism! Curse that Bram Stoker and his accursed imagination!"

Dead Apostles were the beings associated with Vampirism in the magical world. However, when one hears the word of Vampire, they instead associate it with the vampire **Dracula**. Even with a legend that is barely one hundred years old, it can be said that it is one of the most famous works in the entire world which was synonymous with horror itself.

Since Lancer had been summoned, any and other goal he may have had was washed away when he learned of this fact. Since then, his goal had changed to using the grail to erase the fictional horror his name was associated with from history. How the grail planned to do that was unknown, though he was certain that it would carry out the deed.

"Then shall we call the rest of the Yggdmillenia and begin summoning their servants?" Darnic suggested, breaking the Lancer out of his cursing as he coughed and regained composure.

"Yes, let us get everything ready. I wish to meet my new soldiers who will fight alongside me."

* * *

"The works of man are quite impressive, no? For something that's simply a hunk of metal, it can fly through the air well."

"It's science and aerodynamics, Merem. You'd know about this if you actually left your abode once in a while instead of using your demons."

The two Apostles chatted quietly amongst themselves as they disembarked the plane that they had hijacked to Romania. Due to the fact that Dead Apostles couldn't cross large bodies of water without help, it was a necessary evil for them to make it.

And by necessary evil, it meant hypnotizing nearly a dozen airport security and the unlucky witnesses who happened to raise their voices. Shirou had been less than happy about it, but Merem didn't have any problems with it and just continued to do so with a smile.

"My demons are perfectly capable of doing jobs by themselves. I have to use them for something, don't I?" Merem gave a wry smile, ignoring Shirou's annoyed look.

"Your right leg nearly destroyed the entirety of a nuclear power plant and also tried to eat me when I tried to stop it. If you're going to at least let something like that loose, be there to control it."

"Oh? Would you rather let me release my right arm instead? You know how dangerous she can be at times."

Shirou's face flushed red and he coughed into his hands. "At least she doesn't have the brain of an animal."

Merem's special quality as a dead apostle was the demons he kept as his arms and legs. The four limbs correspond to a special demon that was powerful in its own right, making Merem a powerful force should all of them be released at once.

The only bad problem with that idea is the fact that they each had weird... quirks. They mostly had beast-like intelligence, but his right arm was a special case. It housed a female demon whose form was meant to represent the art of war and weaponry. It was 10 meters tall, but it could change its size depending on the circumstances. It was able to wield rocket launchers and guns, each way more power than their regular counterparts.

The first time he met it, the arm had become quite affectionate with him and would follow his commands just like Merem. It was a weird relationship, but he wasn't too particularly bothered by it despite how clingy it could be. More often than not, however, Merem would have trouble trying to bring it back after their missions together.

Of course, he didn't seem to mind too much. He enjoyed watching Shirou's uncomfortable look when the demon would shower him with her 'affection'.

"Well, I did design her to be the most human-like. I guess simple things like that were to be expected." Merem muttered under his breath before perking up. "Anyway! Let's continue moving, shall we? I want to get to Trifas as quickly as we can! Maybe then we can steal the grail from under the Yggdmillenia's nose!"

Shirou rolled his eyes. "You even remember what the report said? There are servants here. _Servants._ We're not sure how powerful they exactly are, but just a single one of them took apart an entire platoon of combat magi. Don't you think we should be a bit more cautious?"

"Hm... Perhaps." Merem acknowledge before grinning. "Then we'll test one of these servants ourselves! That would be fun, wouldn't it?"

Shirou couldn't help but face palm at that statement. This was going to be a very long war.

* * *

 _Eyes on the road... Eyes on the road... Don't take your eyes off of the road..._

A burly looking man wearing a biker jacket and pants drove fast down the road without any care for the speed limit. In fact, he was pretty much thirty miles over the allocated speed limit.

Which, what, put him at eighty five miles an hour?

"Oi... Master."

 _Eyes on the road._

"Master..."

 _Keep your cool. Don't let anything distract you._

"Master!"

 _Forget it._

"What?" The man gruffly replied to the girl in the passenger seat next to him. In terms of exposure, he was definitely sure that she was bordering on the lines of indecent. She wore a white tube top alongside a red jacket with a tattered pair of shorts that exposed most of her legs for all to see. Her green eyes were glaring into him with annoyance, giving her the look of a punk.

"I demand that you tell me why the hell I have to wear clothing such as these! No knight would be caught wearing something like this!" The girl scowled, not at all pleased with the arrangements.

"Are you honestly bothered by it?" The man grumbled.

"No, not really. However, I am the son of a king! I should be wearing some fancier clothing!"

"It was on sale and money doesn't grow on trees." The man sighed. "Honestly, Knight of Treachery, learn to live with what you have. Do you think your father would have complained?"

 **Mordred**. She was the knight of treachery who had successfully managed to end the reign of King Arthur and defeated him at the Battle of Camlann at the cost of her own life. While it had initially been surprising that she was female, her personality was just as rough as it was in legend. He had summoned her under the saber class, but her foul mood seemed more compatible with someone from the Berserker class.

A part of that may have been from the fact that he summoned her in a graveyard, but that was besides the point. He was a necromancer, one who defiled the body of others for personal gain. The resting places of the dead were areas he found the most comforting.

...It sounded much cooler in practice than reality honestly.

"So where are we going, anyway?" Saber asked, reclining backwards in the seat.

"For starters, we're heading to the local church. Once we do, we'll be introduced to the people we'll be working with." He frowned. "I did tell you about that, right? We're in a joint effort now. We'll be pitted against a team of opposing 7 servants for the grail."

"Eh... That's fine. But what about the Church? Even in my time, the Church didn't like getting themselves involved in magical duties unless it involved a dead apostle or a demon. So why now?"

"Because it's the Holy Grail. Even if it's not exactly the one told of in legends, it's still a powerful artifact. The Church wants at least some degree of influence on whoever gets the grail so that they don't do anything stupid with it."

"Define stupid."

"Destruction of the world, god-like power, etc. The usual stuff." He suddenly perked up. "Welp, we're here now. Just in time."

Swiveling to a stop, the car found itself in front of the gates to a large Chapel. Despite being a house of God, the place looked quite eery in the pale moonlight. If it was run down, he may have actually considered leaving in a heartbeat.

"Saber... Go into spirit form."

Nodding, the girl dissipated into particles of light before vanishing. No more than a second later, the doors to the church slowly opened with an audible creaking noise and a white haired boy in priestly garbs stepped out.

His smile was serene, but he wasn't fooled into thinking that it was innocence. This boy... was more than what he seemed.

"Good evening. Kairi Shishigou, I presume?" The boy assumed.

He nodded. "Yeah, that's me."

"Excellent. Please follow me. We have much to discuss."

* * *

"So we are the defending team, I presume?" A green haired man asked as he observed a map that was sprawled out in front of him. By his side, Lancer and Darnic watched him work while a girl in a wheelchair remained in the shadows silently.

"Indeed. The Association has sent their champions to take the grail. If they do not try to attack, their entire operation will be moot." Darnic confirmed with a nod. "I do not know which servant has been summoned, but we have the advantage so long as we don't leave our territory."

"I trust that your wisdom will be essential in the upcoming battle, Teacher of Heroes." Lancer said, earning a smile from the man.

"Of course. After all, I am top notch when it comes to planning. If I wasn't, it would surely stain my name as Chiron."

 **Chiron** was the wise Centuar who taught heroes. Originally a god who was taught many things by the Olympians, he eventually relinquished his divinity to free himself from the pain of hydra poison. A poison that causes unbelievable pain no matter who was inflicted. It was due to this incident that has allowed him to be summoned as an Archer servant.

he turned towards the girl and gestured for her to come over. "Fiore... Would you like to join us?"

The girl in the wheelchair smiled softly. "Yes, of course. Though I doubt my opinion will be of any use in a discussion like this."

"It will be a good experience for you, Fiore. You will have to lead when I'm gone and this will surely help you in the future." Darnic said to his eventual successor.

"If you say so, Grandfather."

As she wheeled over to join them, Archer began his analysis of the map.

"Now then... Our fortress is heavily fortified on all sides. Due to our ground forces quantity over quality, I can only suggest that we send at least two servants to support them. I do not mean to offend, but simple homunculi will not be able to impeded a servant for long even with their large numbers. As for the golems, I simply do not know how they actually are in battle. Further testing will be required later."

"That can be arranged. Caster has gone out and placed traps all across the city beforehand. Once they have been tripped, we'll be able to see just how well our golems fare." Lancer said, seemingly being absorbed in the conversation himself.

"How many?"

"Fifty key points at least."

"I see..."

The conversation would descend into quiet suggestions and commands for the next several hours, preparing the Fortress of Millenia for the oncoming storm.

On the outskirts of town, however, those of the Red were doing the same.

* * *

"Materialize your servant, Please."

Kairi stared silently at the boy as he gave a smile. He had led them to the main room of the Chapel, which wasn't as large as he had thought it would be. There were only 6 rows of pews that looked like they hadn't been moved for a long time. In fact, it looked like the chapel hadn't been used in a long time as well.

 _"Your call, Master."_ Saber's voice spoke gruffly through their link together. It seems like she didn't want to be the one making the decisions it seems, despite the fact that she should have been way more qualified to do so.

 _"Then materialize. I have a bad feeling about this place."_

At his side, Saber materialized in her complete form. Instead of her casual clothes, she wore a full suit of armor adorned with a demonic looking helmet that completely covered her face. At her side was a red sword meant to be used with two hands, though she didn't seem to have any problem with using one to hold it.

At her appearance, the boy's face morphed into a slightly puzzled frown.

"Huh... That's a surprise..." He muttered.

"What?" Kairai asked with raised eyebrows as he watched the boy rub his eyes for a moment.

"It is nothing. I was simply surprised by your servant's appearance. I had a different image in mind." His weird smile wormed its way onto his face again and he gave a stiff bow. "My name is Shirou Kotomine. As you know, I'm the representative the Church has sent to help with the Grail War. Since you have revealed your servant, allow me to introduce mine. Please reveal yourself, Assassin."

"As you wish, my liege."

Startled by the sudden ring of her voice, Shishigou jumped to his feet. Assassin had taken form on the bench right beside where he was sitting before.

"Tch. Assassin, huh..."

When an Assassin gains entrance into this world, it obtains the Class Skill of Presence Concealment. While under this skill, and in spirit form, an Assassin can never be detected by others unless she moves to attack.

"I am the Assassin of the Red. We look forward to your assistance... Shishigou, was it?"

A pleasing aroma emanated from the depraved beauty, who was wrapped around by a dress as dark as midnight. She wore a thin smile as her fingers crept towards Shishigou's hand.

"...Yeah, thanks."

With a stiff smile, Shishigou backed away from her. In Fuyuki, it had been fixed so that Hassan-i Sabbah would always have been summoned as Assassin. Is she one of them?

His instincts told him otherwise.

Hassan: **The Old Man of the Mountain,** was purely a killer; he erased his targets using skills obtained through training of the body and mind. That is certainly not the image that this woman gives. The deaths she caused were not done in secret, but deliberated and premeditated. All it took was a single word - a single glance - and her targets would die by the hands of others.

In other words, a master manipulator

"...Foul hag."

Shishigou could not agree more with Mordred's muttered words.

"Please don't trouble him like that, Assassin."

"Yes, yes, begging your leave."

Stifling her laughter, Assassin removed herself from Shishigou.

"Now, let us review the situation at once. The Yggdmillennia clan already possesses six Servants: Saber, Archer, Lancer, Rider, Berserker and Caster. It seems only Assassin has yet to join them."

"Any names that we know of?"

"At the moment, not one, unfortunately. Well, we have yet to engage them in combat, so I suppose it is only natural. However, we do have confirmation of the parameters of the six Servants."

Kotomine reached into a pocket and pulled out a few documents. Thanking him, Shishigou took the papers and skimmed over their contents. They only contained the specifications of the Servants, with no mention of such critical information as innate skills or Noble Phantasms, but one can determine quite a few things from interpreting the data alone.

Naturally, the greatest obstacles appear to be the three knight classes of Saber, Archer and Lancer - each possesses superb parameters which tower above the rest. Also as expected, they used the Berserker class to strengthen a weaker Servant; but with such low specs, it is unlikely to become a significant threat. As for Rider and Caster, theirs is not an issue of numbers, but of Noble Phantasms and thaumaturgy, so for the time being, he will reserve judgement on them.

"Any ideas as to who they may be?"

"...There _is_ technically one. I'm guessing it's occurred to you, too."

Shirou smiled wryly as he nodded.

"Well, seeing as we are in Romania, it would be impossible for the great hero of this nation to not be called."

There is no reason why famous heroes of Romanian origin would not be summoned, with the war now taking place here instead of Fuyuki.

"Vlad III, Prince of Wallachia - if he's not with us, he's definitely against us."

Kairi nodded his head in agreement. It was almost inevitable that he would be summoned. Someone as famous as him being summoned in the country where his sphere of influence is the strongest, it'll boost his strengths to monstrous heights.

"And what of our own faction?"

"Not bad at all. Your saber has excellent parameters across the board, and I can also vouch that our Lancer and Rider both have the strength to oppose Vlad III."

Kairi actually was surprised at that. Just what sort of catalyst did they manage to dig up?

 _"Could it be... Father...?"_

Saber murmured, in a voice so low it could barely be heard.

 _"Calm down. There's no way... I think."_

...He certainly hoped so. If something like that ever came to pass, their forces would be riven before the war even began.

"In any case, with your summoning of Saber, we have now assembled our seven. Now then... would you kindly tell me the name of your Servant?"

Assassin let slip a chuckle. At the same time, Saber bristled with enmity. But more so than the request for her true name, it seemed that she found Assassin's laughter highly grating.

"Ahh... well, do I have to?"

"Well, I'd certainly like to know why you cannot reveal it to me. After all, we are comrades in this war. Given that we are putting our lives in each other's hands, would it not be prudent to know the true names of each other's Servants?"

"I guess our lives really are in each other's hands... but..."

To start with, a Servant's name is the most important piece of information of all. It would be unthinkable to simply reveal it without a thought. The grasping of a Servant's true name inevitably leads to everything from their Noble Phantasm to their strengths, and conversely, their weaknesses.

"And if the Servants are to stand together on the line of battle, they must know what kind of Noble Phantasm the others will use. In either case, once the Servant's Noble Phantasm is used, its true name might as well be revealed. There is little difference."

In truth, Shirou's proposition was very reasonable - but Shishigou could not help feeling some trepidation at the prospect of fighting on the same front as this Shirou... and his Assassin. It was a very odd and somehow chilling sensation. He smelled something which ought not exist in the heat of battle - the stench of deception.

Shishigou turned his back on the two, facing Saber and making his thoughts known via telepathy. Between Master and Servant, it is possible to exchange their intents to this extent, even without spoken words.

 _"What is your will, Master? In any case, I refuse."_

 _"And I'd agree with you. But why?"_

 _"...Instinct."_

 _"I can put my faith in that. It's settled, then."_

Shishigou tucked away the documents and walked down the nave, his back still facing the two.

"Oh? Where to?"

"Yeah, we're just going to go and do our own thing. Lucky me, 'cause I got a Saber, so I doubt working alone is going to be much of a problem."

The Saber class is said to be the greatest among the seven Servants. With their high parameters and attack power, it is unlikely for them to be defeated in a fight against any Servant.

"I see. So you will not join us in battle, then?"

"You guys already have six Servants, right? And if Lancer and Rider are as amazing as you say, there shouldn't be an issue."

"That is certainly the case, but... you have me at a loss."

Shirou scratched at his head, looking somewhat troubled. Assassin, her eyebrows slightly arched, exuded an air of displeasure.

"...So you claim that you have no need of our hand in waging war, but know that you forfeit all the counsel we could provide on Trifas."

"That would be a shame, because I'd love to get as much counsel as I can. How about I buy it off of you?"

Assasssin's brows rose ever further at his disagreeable words. Quietly, Shirou checked her.

"We will provide information on a regular basis. But this is most unfortunate. I truly did wish to stand alongside you."

Shirou murmured with regret before shaking his head as he watched Kairi go.

"In that case, may God bless you with luck... bounty hunter."

* * *

"Um... Sir? Are you even old enough to rent a room? Where are your parents?"

The receptionist leaned over the desk to peer at the new customer who wished to partake in a room for the week. However, the person who was staring back at him was nothing more than a child who was barely over five feet!

"I'm traveling abroad right now without my parents. They know where I am though, so can I please rent a room? Preferably the penthouse."

"Uh... The Penthouse is certainly open but I'm going to have to see some kind of identification first. A child like you shouldn't be renting a room by yourself, much less traveling abroa-"

"I said..." The Boy suddenly stared deep into his eyes. "You want to give me the penthouse."

At the other end of the lobby, Shirou sighed as he watched the man tense up and blink twice in confusion. He has seen this routine many times before from Ciel and several other executioners he worked with. The sentence, 'You want to give me the penthouse', is pretty much that signature motto of the Burial Agency at this point.

Mystical eyes of enchantment were very helpful on civilians.

"Done?" He asked as Merem walked over with a happy smile.

"Yep. Everything is set and done. The penthouse is ours." He chuckled with amusement before he lowered his voice to a whisper. "Also, between you and me, I'm putting the charges on Ciel's account."

Shirou sighed. "You know she hates it when you do that, right?"

Merem shrugged. "It's either her or Narbeck. Pick your poison."

To be honest, he couldn't argue with that.

After taking the elevator, the two soon arrived at their penthouse. As far as penthouses go, it was very royal in nature. Still, it wasn't like Merem choose this place for the pleasure of royalty (He totally did) but because it was a great vantage point to oversee the city.

"You might want to take this time to prepare yourself, you know. You never know when people may be... spying on us."

"You're the king of familiars, Merem. I'm sure you'd notice if someone was tracking us." Shirou muttered as he threw his belongings on the bed. His only piece of luggage that he carried was a simple backpack that held his Church uniform. Taking out the attire, he smoothly unfolded it across the bed and began making his routine inspection.

The clothing was actually quite simple in design. Having gone through multiple sets of blessings and consecrations, the robes were blessed with the most powerful defensive sacraments the Church has to offer. Along with that, there was also a sheet of kevlar that had been sown between the fabric for extra protection. Due to this, the clothing was able to block medium calibre bullets with little effort, though larger calibre like sniper rounds were a different story.

As for him, he didn't really need the extra protection since he was a dead apostle with more powerful physical traits than an ordinary human, but his defensive capabilities were actually on the lower end of the 27 ancestors since he was still really young. Thus, he still continues to wear the uniform for extra protection.

Plus, he liked the look.

But it wasn't all he had in stock. Unlike other dead apostles who loved to dabble in sorcery, he preferred to stay with the times. He wasn't a good user of magecraft by any means. His sole use of the Denial of Nothingness made it so that most magecraft was unneeded to him.

He was a creator. That's what he was at his origin. Rather than rely on his brute force and physical strength, he creates weapons to help surpass his own limits.

Namely, guns and bullets. Lots and lots of bullets.

It was a trait he picked up from Ciel during their numerous training sessions together. While she taught him how to use many forms of weapons like swords, knives, and spears, she often emphasized most of their training on how to shed lead.

In his right hand, a sleek black gun appeared. Larger than the regular handgun, but small enough for comfortable use, he found this model to be his personal favorite out of the handful that his Sempai forced him to try out.

It was a Desert Eagle. A hand canon that's manufactured in Israel. Fitting, since Ciel has often claimed the model to be a magnificent form of justice that dispenses evil in the name of God... if you could handle the recoil.

"I'll never understand how this was one of the only things that Ciel has managed to pass onto you." Merem remarked from the corner of the room as he dug through one of his packs.

"Ciel-Sempai really loved her guns. I guess it just kinda stuck after the first few rounds." Shirou smiled as he cocked the gun back and forth, testing the slide. "They're much more efficient than using a sword. It's less painful to have a bullet in the skull rather than a stab in the chest."

"You're way to courteous to your enemies, you know that?" Merem pointed out with a sigh.

"I believe in not causing unnecessary pain."

Merem sighed. Sometimes he believed that the boy was too pure for this world.

"Anyways, I'm preparing my familiars to head out and scout the area. In the meantime, we'll be holding up here."

"Waiting? That's... not fun." Shirou mumbled while Merem shot him an amused look.

"What, you have something better to do? You could always play on a gameboy or something. I hear that a new pokemon game just game out a few months ago."

Shirou had a considering look on his face, but he shook his head and stood up. "You know... maybe later. If you excuse me, I must be going."

Merem blinked. "Going? Going where?" He asked as Shirou headed towards the door."

"A walk." Shirou replied simply as he exited the suite, leaving Merem alone with a confused look on his face.


	4. Holy Maiden

Jeanne d'arc hummed softly to herself as she leaned against the back of the truck she was currently riding in. She had only landed in Romania an hour ago and was already pressed for time. So, mostly against her better nature, she kindly asked a passing driver if she could hitch a ride with them to Trifas.

She would have preferred to run to Trifas on foot, but her condition didn't allow for that. While her physical abilities have more or less stayed the same, she couldn't afford to be so reckless with her body. After all, she was only temporarily borrowing it for the time being.

It was her words as a saint that was able to sway the man to let him take her. It was sort of like a hypnosis of some sort, but it made it impossible for ordinary people to disobey her requests. Such a thing was akin to witchcraft of sort, but it wasn't something she could control on the fly.

She would just have to pray for the Lord's forgiveness nature for taking advantage of such kind people.

Although she had to admit, the modern world was certainly much more interesting than she thought. These cars and planes for example. Flying was something of a dream in her time, yet people can now easily do so using these contraptions. The science behind it was beyond her, but she couldn't help but be impressed with it. Even these cars, which are so common placed, allowed for much more convenient transportation. Riding a horse was fun, but it was often hard on the legs.

Amongst the pile of hay which was being transported, she quietly thought about what her next move should be. She has already secured a path to Trifas, yet she had no idea where she would stay.

The Yggdmillenia clan would certainly have eyes throughout the entire city. While there were rules in place to prevent attacks upon the Ruler class, she had no idea if they would actually follow the rules. Thus, she would have to treat everyone as an enemy until she could find a place that could be used as a central base of operation.

Her humming suddenly stopped abruptly as she felt a foreboding feeling in the back of her mind. Due to her status as Ruler, she is able to detect the presence of servants in a 10 kilometer radius around her. Even if they were an assassin class with presence concealment, it would be useless against her.

As of now, she detected the presence of a _very_ powerful servant which was remaining stationary up the road ahead. It didn't take a genius to figure out what exactly it was doing.

It was waiting for her.

She bit her lip and gently banged banged on the roof of the truck to gain the drivers attention. "Um... Sir?"

"Hm? Something you need?" The man asked with a questioning look as the truck slowed to a crawl.

"Could you let me off here please? I can walk the rest of the way to Trifas on my own."

The man's face morphed into concern. "What? Are you sure? We're still pretty far from the place and it's quite dangerous for a lady like you to be walking at this hour."

Jeanne smiled sweetly. "I'll be fine, I promise. When I get off, you should turn back and wait a day before coming back. You can do that, can you?"

The man stared at her for a moment, his mouth open as if he wanted to say something. After several seconds, the mouth closed and the man slowly nodded his head. "Well... Alright then. Try to stay out of trouble."

Her smile dropped a little bit, though she nodded politely. "I will do so. Thank you for your generosity."

She grabbed her backpack and hopped off of the vehicle before resuming the rest of her trek on foot. As the man reversed his car and took off down the road, her walking soon turned into a light run as her form began to change. Her white school uniform disappeared, having been replaced by a purple battle dress and steel armor. In her hands, a golden flag with the insignia of the Lord appeared in its full glory as she rushed to confront the threat.

She hated having to lie to the kind man like that. As the Ruler class, it was almost inevitable that she'd be confronted with danger.

* * *

Shirou walked through the streets or Trifas with a blank look on his face. Now in his uniform, he found himself scouting the area for any possible threats or sentries.

As a personal rule, he always made it a point to try and remove anything that could be considered a surveillant device. In the heart of a magus family house, it wasn't uncommon for them to set up magical defenses in the neighboring towns. Battle over territory was a common thing amongst magi. With rich leylines converging in this area, it would most certainly be considered unwise to leave it undefended.

Especially with such a large conflict with equally large stakes.

Looking around, he bit his lips as he kept his hands in his pockets. For whatever reason, he had the creepy feeling like he was being watched. Ever since he left the hotel, it just appeared as a nagging sensation in the back of his mind. Years of combat experience have trained him to rely on his instincts more. Where brains and reason would fail you, your inner instincts cannot.

*Woof!*

He paused suddenly as the sharp sound of a dog's barking reached his ears. Tracing the origin of the sound, he found himself staring down the darkness of a nearby alley.

"A stray dog?" He muttered, his hand slowly retreating from his gun as he exhaled. "Geez... Getting me scared over nothin-"

*▂▂▃▃▄▄▅▅!*

With a bestial roar resembling that of a dinosaur, a dark shape suddenly darted out from within the shadows at speeds rivaling a bullet. It was the size of a german shepherd, and was probably ten times more vicious.

In that instant, his executioner training kicked in. The dog launched itself at his neck with the intent of tearing his throat out, but he was already moving at this point. In the time of a single breath, his fist exploded upwards and slammed itself into the dog's jaw.

"Hya!" Shirou yelled as he sent the dog spiraling to the other end of the street with a sickening crack. Despite the fact that its neck was certainly snapped, the body continued to twitch and spasm abruptly.

He took a calm breath to compose himself as he lowered his fist. Upon closer inspection of the animal, he could see that it was unlike any kind of dog he has seen before. It was pitch black with equally dark blood that resembled sludge more than an actual fluid.

"A familiar?" He muttered as he cautiously moved closer to inspect the downed animal. As he did so, the puddle of sludge around the corpse began retreating back to it, disappearing within the animal's corpse. "No... A composite being?"

"It is the essence of Chaos."

He spun around and quickly drew his gun without thinking. At the other end of the street was a man wearing a pitch black trench coat. His face was pale and rough looking, reminding him of the undead the he often was sent to exterminate. Without stopping to consider whether he was a threat or not, he released two rounds towards the man with the intent to kill.

Instead of tearing him in half like the bullets were supposed to, the man simply grunted as the bullets slammed into him.

"Rude... Aren't you?" The man muttered as he dusted himself off with an annoyed look. "You fight with such primitive tools even with such a powerful mystery... The First Magic wasn't meant for such purposes."

Shirou narrowed his eyes and his grip on the gun tightened. "You know who I am..."

"Indeed. You're the newly appointed ancestor from the depths of the Church. Their ultimate weapon in exterminating monsters." The man's eyes sharpened. "The one who was granted God's hand of creation... Shirou: The Blacksmith."

Shirou stumbled backwards in surprise as a black mass of sludge zipped past him and plaster itself over the man's form. In less than a second, however, the sludge was seemingly melting away.

No.

It was being absorbed.

Craning his head to look, he realized that the dog's corpse was no longer behind him. Not even a single speck of black blood had remained behind to stain the ground to show that it had once been there.

"I see..." Shirou muttered as he turned back towards the man with a cautious frown. "A man who is formed out of beasts and has become the embodiment of chaos itself... You are Fabro Rowan, aren't you?"

The legendary monster amongst the 27 apostles. Despite being counted as a dead apostle, he was a unique one amongst them. His body was a swirling void of chaos, effectively a world of its own that was built upon the many monsters within. He had heard that the man kept hundreds of unique beasts within his body like tigers and even rare phantasmal creatures. His status as a composite being made him nearly un-killable, and even Merem had stated that the White Princess herself would have trouble killing him.

He was given the name, ' **Nrvnqsr Chaos'** , by the Church because of this. However, most people just referred to him by his real name or the shorter version of 'Chaos' since nobody actually knew how to pronounce the first part.

"Indeed. I am he."

"And what is someone like you doing here? Last I heard, you were in the middle east."

Chaos raised an eyebrow. "I am here to witness the battle for the cup that grants wishes. An artifact personally created by number four is an interesting prospect."

Shirou froze. "You're planning to join the war?"

At this, the monster scoffed. "Do not be ridiculous. I have no plans on wasting my energy for such a trivial thing. Simply observing is fine by me."

Now Shirou couldn't help but frown at that. It wasn't like he knew much about the Ancestor's personality, but he couldn't help but feel like what he was saying was a lie. At the very same time, however, it also couldn't. Most of the Ancestors were different compared to each other. Trying to judge one without knowing them personally was very hard to do.

"As for you..." Chaos began walking towards him, causing him to tense up once again. "What is your reason for being here?"

Shirou snorted. Why? He wouldn't have been here if he could help it. "Merem dragged me along. He wanted to see the grail for himself."

At the mention of his name, the man's eyes narrowed with a hint of barely detected annoyance. He knew that Merem wasn't particularly liked much by most of the other dead apostles, but he didn't think that it extended to Chaos himself. He was an elusive predator, more akin to a wandering nomad. Unlike the other dead apostles, he doesn't have any followers or land. As such, it was hard for the Church to track him. Only through his unique feeding habits are they able to pinpoint his location, yet even that is not enough for confrontation.

In fact, his relationships with the Church have often been secluded at best. Merem has said that he had confronted him once, but it never turned into a full fight. Merem was forcefully opposed to anyone who supported Altrouge, the ninth of the 27 Ancestors, and also the sister of the White Princess that Merem idolized. Since Chaos was an independent apostle, the two of them never crossed beasts. Though their relationship never extended into anything like friendship.

"Is that so? The rat always goes around where he doesn't belong." Chaos muttered to himself before he stopped besides him. "Now then... do you desire to battle?"

"Battle? Here?"

"Indeed. You are a hunter of your own kind, are you not? If that is the case, it is only natural that you would wish to fight."

Shirou eyed the man carefully, but made no threatening movement. Could he honestly take him? Maybe... But that would require him to draw out his more destructive creations. If he did that here...

He sighed. No. Not here. There were too many innocents around. They would most likely reduce the town to ashes before one of them kicked the bucket. Besides, bringing attention to themselves wouldn't be wise at this point in time. He'd let him go... for now.

"I... didn't expect to see you here. At this point, it'd be foolish to fight you in such a populated area. I will have to plan more in the future before I make my move." He glanced at the man. "And you?"

"A wielder of Magic is one not to be taken lightly. I will have to gather my strength for the next time we meet... hunter." He replied before resuming his walk, seemingly satisfied. "Though prepare yourself thoroughly, hunter. I have survived centuries under the threats of the Church, the Scriptures, even the Cross itself. Even if you are a wielder of the first magic, even if you rank amongst my species, you will be devoured by the chaos that is my body. Beware, child, beware."

And with that ominous warning, the vampire resumed walking down the street until he disappeared out of sight. When he was certain that he had gone, Shirou released his breath.

"Same goes to you..." He muttered as he straightened his uniform. "So the rumors were true... He is a walking mass of familiars."

He sighed and clenched his fist. "Ciel-Sempai... What would you have done?"

Well, that was a given. She probably would have tried to purge him with her scripture. Typical of Ciel-Sempai.

Placing the gun back in his pockets, he began wondering what he should do now. He still didn't feel like going back to Merem, but there was absolutely nothing for him to do. None of the shops were open, and daybreak was still quite a ways away. Perhaps he could try and see if there was a 7-11 nearby. Those things never closed!

Suddenly, the sound of tires screeching in the distance reached his ears and his problems were immediately solved.

"Hm... A sign from God?" He muttered as he began moving in the direction of the highway.

Perhaps there he would find something interesting.

* * *

"The situation has escalated farther than we thought. We have more unknown variables in the equation."

 _"Tch... What are they doing here? The Church had already sent a representative. There was no need to send another!"_

"They're here independently from the church's orders. The Holy Grail was apparently too much for number twenty to resist. I believe they're here to claim the grail for themselves."

 _"The burial agency wasn't created for something like this..."_

"I wouldn't know. You were the one who made it."

Fabro Rowan held the cell phone to his ear as he casually walked through the streets. His acquaintance on the other end of the line seemed absolutely livid at the possibility of dealing with a magician. Though given his nature, it could be chalked up to minor annoyance. After all, he has long since forgotten how to fear death.

 _"And did you not think to try and dispose of him there?"_

"It would be foolish considering I do not know the size of his arsenal. I have my limits as well, you know. I intend to survive for the sake of-"

 _"Unleashing your chaos upon the world, I get it. You've said this a hundred times already."_

He sighed. Sometimes people do not understand his plight. Still, he was grateful that his associate was willing to help him get the chance to control the chaos within him. Though honestly, he found his reasons for doing so were quite childish.

The lengths he'd go for her attention...

"So what would you like for me to do now?"

 _"I'll call you again when the time comes to move forward with our plan. As of now, we're still far too early into the game to reveal our hand. I'm still dealing with the masters on my end and everything has yet to fall into place."_

"And the magician?"

 _"Leave him be. He's still young, so it's unlikely he'll catch on to what we're doing. Though if you come across that Merem boy... Feel free to rip him to shreds. If he keeps digging around, things might become troublesome."_

"Hmph. If you say so." He turned into a nearby alleyway and soon came across a wooden door that was effectively hidden from sight. Narrowing his eyes, he lowered the cell phone from his ear and sniffed.

"We'll talk later."

Snapping the phone shut, he casually raised his foot and kicked the door down. Strolling inside, he was greeted with the faces of several shocked men and women wearing dark clothing. Each of them had a mystic code by their side, ranging from knives to magic wands. From the looks of it, the place was one of the base of operations for a nearby magus family living under the Yggdmillenia.

Though it wasn't like it would do them any good.

"A pitiful hiding spot for what I can assume is an assassination group." He muttered as he looked around the room, freezing everyone in place. "I do not know what your associations are, but I cannot bring myself to care." His body began to squirm as the chaos within him reacted to the amount of magical energy.

"I'm famished... do not try to struggle so much. Your meaningless existence will become useful as another turning gear for my body."

The sounds of howls and screams erupted into the air for thirty seconds before they were quickly silenced by the flood of beasts that tore themselves free from their cage.

* * *

After advancing several kilometers, she finally ran into her target.

Atop the nearby road sign, a pale man with equally white hair loomed with a piercing gaze. He was donned with golden armor and a single red gem in his chest glowed faintly. Shrouding him was a cape of fire, yet he didn't seem bothered by it at all. Besides him was a golden spear of sorts, giving of a menacing vibe due to the numerous spikes that were at the end of it.

"Servant Ruler, I take it?"

His voice wasn't hollow, but it was close to being emotionless. He stood up from his perch and dropped down to the ground to stand at her level, never once taking his eyes off of her.

"And what of it, Lancer? Or perhaps... Karna would be a better name?" She narrowed her eyes with wariness as she eyed his spear.

"Hoh... So you recognize me from just a glance alone. You really are the Ruler-class servant." Lancer muttered as he leaned against the spear.

Jeanne frowned, considering whether or not she should summon her flag. If she did so, she might accidentally provoke the man to attack. If he actually planned to do so, however, she would need to be ready.

"Why is it that you are here, Lancer? Does your master intend to perhaps try and make a deal with me?"

It couldn't be helped. Something like this had popped up in her mind during her thoughts about what could have gone down the second she landed in Trifas. As the mediator of the grail war, she was given multiple sets of command seals to help and cull servants as punishment should the enforced rules be broken. If someone was to theoretically get on a Ruler's good side, it would almost certainly be a sure victory for the-

"You misunderstand. This isn't a declaration of peace, rather, a declaration of war." Lancer declared as he grabbed his spear.

That got her attention.

"A declaration of war? You and your master should know that such a move is unwise. What good can come from killing me at this stage?"

"I do not know."

His simple statement shut down all attempts at a response, leaving Jeanne stunned at such a declaration.

"All I know is that my master has ordered for your execution. I simply act in accordance with our contract. That is my duty as a servant."

In his hands, the spear he was holding began to glow with ethereal light. It then began to change, becoming longer than the man was tall. It had such an exquisite appearance that it could be likened to a work of art. A weapon created by the gods and meant for them only, a noble phantasm of a pantheon.

"I will not ask for your forgiveness, but I shall settle this quickly. Let my first strike settle this matter."

"Lancer..."

She grit her teeth. There was no doubt about it. The large amount of mana that was starting to gather in the area only proved that Lancer wasn't bluffing in regards to his duty. Even so, she couldn't help but be taken aback by such a brash action.

 _"He plans on releasing the full might of his noble phantasm?! At this distance, it'll be faster than my authority!"_

She grit her teeth and summoned her stand, materializing it in her hands. She would only have one shot at this. The destruction that would inevitably be released will devastate the land. With such little preparation time, she had no idea if she could even properly utilize the power within her noble phantasm.

Then that's when a miracle struck.

 _*BANG* *BANG*_

The swirling mana within the air vanished when Lancer suddenly stumbled forward in surprise as two objects slammed into his back. Quickly recovering, he spun around and tried to identify the threat.

"Who goes there?" He questioned, eyes narrowing into something resembling a glare.

And that's when a man appeared atop a light post.

"A good samaritan."

* * *

Shirou lowered the gun as he stood atop the street lamp. Truth be told, he wasn't expecting such a large amount of magical energy in this particular area. Gathering and handling such a power would have normally been impossible to generate for most mages. The only ones who could were those who have been submerged with great mystery.

Like a servant.

Still, he had initially been put off by the aura the servant was giving off. Such a divine power... it was different from the dead apostles, who had much darker auras. This one was brighter, much more radiant in comparison.

But it didn't take him long to figure out who was the enemy in this scenario. The girl the man had been aiming at was definitely a holy woman. That flag proved it. His structural analysis, the only spell he found useful, had determined that the flag had a built in function that was used to amplify holy energy into defensive measures.

That was all it took to convince him. He had to help the woman. Call him biased, but it was the simple truth. He didn't want a fellow catholic to die... even if this was a war she joined potentially for a wish granting chalice.

Jumping from the post, he landed besides the woman as she stumbled backwards in surprise. Turning to her, he nodded politely in greeting.

"Good evening." He grunted, lowering his gun to the side. "Are you hurt?"

The woman stared at him with her mouth agape. "A... Church official?" She shook her head and her expression turned sour. "Please... you must leave. It is too dangerous here! Are you trying to forfeit your life?!"

"Do not be ridiculous... Suicide is a sin." Shirou gave her a crooked smile at his own sin, though it seems like she didn't find it particularly amusing. "Relax. I can handle myself fine. I was worried about you."

That gave her pause. "Worried about... me?"

"He is not lying."

Turning to Lancer, the man eyed him with a cold gaze.

"You sought to help her as a fellow member of religion. Admirable, but foolish. I must eliminate both of you now." He declared as he pointed his spear at Shirou, who only stared at him with a curious look.

"That armor of yours..." He muttered as he sized him up and down. "I think I'll add it to my collection. I've never seen such a powerful defense in my life..." He then turned towards the saint and whispered in her ear. "Please... follow my lead."

"What?" She whispered back with a questioning look. "Just what are you planning on doing? You can't take on a servant by yourself!"

"Of course not. We're not going to fight him. I fear he may utterly destroy us without preparation first."

Then he spun around and threw a small cylinder through the air before anyone could react. As it hit the ground, Shirou quickly turned towards the girl, swept her off her feet before she could comprehend what was happening, and began taking off towards the city.

"We're running away!"

The object then exploded with an audible pop. Instead of releasing volatile content, however, it was an explosion of absolutely blinding light. A flashbang grenade as it was so aptly named.

For a normal human, it would have damaged a person's eyes extensively if they were staring directly at it. However, it wouldn't even be able to damage a servant's eyes if it wasn't magical in nature.

But a flashbang created by one of the most powerful mysteries is a different story entirely.

Gasping, Lancer stepped backwards in surprise as the light flooded his vision. However, he quickly began to recover. He was a child of the sun, light was his natural ally.

Within twenty seconds, his vision had returned... but his targets were gone. Spinning around in a full circle, he couldn't see any visible traces of his target. Slowly putting his spear down, he began contemplating the status of his mission.

He had failed.

Lowering his head, he disappeared into spirit form. He would need to inform his master of his failure. Whatever plans his master must have would need to be adjusted a little. As a servant, it was his duty to fulfill his master's orders. It pained him to make his hard planning go to waste.

He would destroy her the next time he saw her. His mission was just on... temporary hold.

* * *

Shirou skidded to a stop as he ducked into a nearby alleyway. His feet were a little bit sore, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. He was just glad that his surprise grenade actually worked.

Going up against that guy would have ended with his death. No doubt he would have been torn in half by that man's spear. Seriously, that thing was more like a steel pillar than an actual spear!

He needed to retreat... though it wasn't like he got nothing out of it.

"I don't think he's following us." He grunted as he strained his hearing. As far as he could tell, there was no disturbance in the wind to indicate that they were being tailed.

"No... he is not. It appears he has retreated." The woman confirmed before she gave him a shy look. "Um... Could you please release me?"

"Huh? Oh... yeah." He quickly let her down and the girl breathed a sigh of relief as her feet touched down on the ground. "Sorry about that."

She stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. "Don't be... You saved my life. I'm truly grateful for that. God was feeling merciful to send you to me."

"Don't mention it. I just... couldn't sit by and let it happen."

"Well try not to throw yourself into the danger so quickly next time. I was worried, you know. I did not wish for a fellow christian to die in a battle that didn't concern him." She suddenly gave him a cross look as her finger poked him in the chest. "So don't do that again, okay? I'd rather not see too many people die in this war."

Shirou gulped, though he couldn't bring himself to be truly afraid of that look. It was too... adorable. "Okay. I promise."

"Good." She smiled, and Shirou couldn't help but feel like she was actually radiating holy light just by doing so. Suddenly, it quickly vanished as soon as it came. "Now then... This poses quite the problem. I need a place to stay and I don't think I can go anywhere with the red faction targeting me. What to do..."

Shirou watched as the woman mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in the alley. It was cute to watch, though he honestly felt like it was quite troublesome. What was this woman? A servant? Maybe, but she would have a master, right? So if that was true, where would the master be?

He didn't know, but he knew he should help her. Merem would probably be annoyed if he brought an unknown variable to their super secret hideout, but he could just go back to the Vatican without him.

"You could stay at my place."

The girl stopped her pacing and gave him an incredulous look. "Really? Are you sure? I do not wish to involve you more than you already have..."

"It is no problem at all. Besides, it would be rude of me to not shelter a person who needs it. The circumstances of this war are troublesome, but I can assure you that you'll be able to rest before you move on. Let me do this for you, holy maiden." He declared politely.

For a moment, it seemed like she had been stunned once again into silence before her smile returned back with full force.

"You truly are a servant of the lord. May I know your name?" She asked with a serene look.

"Ah... My name is Shirou."

"Shirou..." She murmured, seemingly trying the foreign name on her lips before smiling. "It is a nice name. Simple, but nice."

"Um... Thanks." For some reason, he felt his cheeks heat up at that compliment and they only turned redder when the girl clasped both of his hands within her own a second later and gave them a warm squeeze.

"You have my eternal gratitude, Shirou. My name is Jeanne D'arc, the Maid of Orleans. I am the Ruler of the Holy Grail War... and the designated mediator of the Grail itself. Please treat me kindly, o' fellow servant of God."


	5. The Beginning of Chaos

"This... is a problem."

Shirou kotomine bit his lips as he drummed his fingers against the Bible he was carrying. The report Karna had gave him was incredibly alarming. Other than the fact that it was another variable he would have to factor, his mere plan was dangerously close to being compromised.

He planted the seeds for the salvation of mankind nearly a century ago. Ever since the Third Holy Grail war, he had been investing all of his time and effort to searching and preparing for the next Holy Grail War. Thanks to Risei Kotomine's influence, he was able to get a position in the Assembly of the Eighth Sacrament, the section of the Church dedicated to searching for Holy Artifacts.

The old man had not suspected a thing. Truth be told, he felt a little bit guilty at having to lie to him, but it was a small price to pay for the salvation of all of mankind.

He planned and executed, quickly building a name for himself in the Church. As a saintly heroic spirit, his Black Keys were abnormally powerful against spirits and the undead. As such, he was considered one of the Church's ultimate weapons when it comes to combatting the undead.

Once he built up a large enough reputation, he began gathering the necessary materials to prepare for the Holy War. He obtained the catalyst of the queen of Assyria, used his connections to gather the rare materials in the middle east for her noble phantasm, and managed to convince the higher-ups to send him as the mediator in the War. With the help of Assassin, he had drugged the rest of the masters and have effectively gained control of their servants. They have yet to surrender their command seals to him, though he was certain that they would do so in time.

Well, except for Shisigou. It didn't really matter, though. One stray pair did not pose a threat to him in the least.

Everything could not have gone any smoother. From his investigations into the black camp, he could wholeheartedly believe that their red faction would win. After all, the quality of their servants were most certainly in the top-tiers. Two of them alone could stand against Lancer of Black in his own territory. Their victory was all but assured.

But then _he_ had to show up.

He could not have suspected, no, would not have suspected that _he_ would be here. He was supposed to be back at the Vatican, not here in this war! It was utterly infuriating! He could not have accounted for such a possibility!

His knuckled turned white. How? Why was he even here? The only person who could possibly threaten his plans just shows up out of the blue without any forewarning from the Church! He could call the vatican and report this to them, but would that even do anything?

The answer would be no. They wouldn't do anything. Thanks to that boy, the Church has been operating on a level far beyond anything it did in the past centuries or so. The world ran on money and the kid was supplying them with near endless amounts. It was often believed within the ranks that the Church was also approaching the same level of power that it had during the peak of its establishment.

With such a condition... it is very unlikely that they would do anything to try and force anything upon the boy. They couldn't risk upsetting him. After all, it's not like they could stop him from leaving. The bishops have believed that he was gifted with the true magic from God himself. Something that creates things out of nothingness is a power attributed to God himself. If such a person had it, it must mean that God allowed them to have it.

Was it corruption? He did not know. He was just a regular boy during the feudal era of Japan. The right to judge was not something he had the power to do. He lost that privilege after he led his countrymen to their deaths. A boy who was so blinded that he could not see the bigger picture was an unworthy candidate to judge others.

But there was one thing he was certain of. That boy was a threat to his plans. Despite the fact that his intentions were beyond pure, despite the just reasons behind his actions, he felt like they could never see eye to eye. He would never be able to truly understand his salvation.

The salvation of all mankind.

With the power of the Grail, he would do so. He would murder, lie, cheat, and steal, if that meant he would be able to acquire the cup for himself. In his mind, no price is too great for the utopia he wished to build.

"You look troubled, Master. Is something bothering you?"

The honey-like voice of his servant spoke from behind him as Assassin materialized from her spirit form. Her expression held amusement, but it wasn't displaying her usual mirth. In fact, she slightly stressed out if her eyes were anything to go by.

"It's nothing too serious." He said as he turned to her with a smile. "It's just a small problem that I'll take care of shortly."

For a moment, silence reigned throughout the room at his statement, thought it seems like Assassin looked absolutely unconvinced of his claim. It was honestly something he would have found amusing had he not been so stressed.

"I am no stranger to lies, Master. Trying to deceive me with your skill is impossible." Assassin said with an exasperated look. "Tell me the truth. What is on your mind?"

It may have sounded like she was trying to be gentle, but it honestly sounded more like a command. There really was no even ground with her.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "It's a colleague of mine. He's here in Trifas for the Holy Grail War and it seems he intends to participate in some form." That was the only logical reason he could come to. Why else would he be here? "I didn't receive any message from the Church so I can only assume that he's here unofficially."

"Mmm... A unaccounted player." She muttered, her eyes glowing with understanding. "I see. No wonder you look so stressed out. What is your relationship with this person?"

"Like I said, he's just a colleague of mine. We've never met personally since he's in a different division, but he's very famous within the Church. He also shares the same name as me so people often got us confused."

"Are you worried about his safety, or are you worried about him causing trouble?" She smoothly walked over to the nearby chair and sat down, a thoughtful look on her face.

"The latter, really. I could care less for his safety now. No sacrifice is too great for my wish." He said, devotion laced within his words. "As he is now, we will have to eliminate him as soon as possible. Lancer of Red has reported that he is with the Ruler-class servant and saved her from his wrath."

Assassin scowled. "I have heard from Lancer that he failed his mission, yet he neglected to tell me this." She shook her head. "I can see why you are so cautious of him now. To survive an encounter with a servant of his calibre must require immense skill. I cannot simply chalk this up to pure luck."

He laughed hollowly. "Immense is a sore understatement. He is the newest magician, the successor of the 1st True Magic."

Assassin's eyes widened and he could see her usual queenly persona crack for a moment. He couldn't blame her. Those who wielded the miracles known as Magic were considered monsters among monsters. Even if they were the most useless candidate when it comes to magecraft, the sheer fact that they could use Magic was able to more than make up for that weakness.

"A magic user?" She whispered. "How terrifying..."

"Indeed. It is a problem that we will have to be taken care of cautiously. If he catches on to what we are doing, it will surely end with him pointing his blades at us."

"Understood. I shall double my efforts to finish up my Noble Phantasm. We will need everything at our disposal to eliminate this threat."

"I trust that the materials I sent your way were more than sufficient?"

"You have provided me with fine building blocks. With them, the Hanging Gardens will be-"

Assassin was suddenly cut off as the doors were blown open with excessive force. At this, the assassin's face turned into a scowl while Shirou put on an awkward smile.

There was only one person who would be so callous as to do this.

"A horse! A horse! My kingdom for a horse!'

A man with brown hair and a rough goatee danced into the room with a spring in his step. He was wearing a green tailored coat and brown pants. In his hand was a book of some sort, opened to a random page with its pages fluttering about.

"Ahahaha..." Kotomine laughed awkwardly as the man looked towards him with an expectant look which quickly turned into disappointment.

"Oh it is truly a tragedy! How can you, my master, not know a quote from one of my most famous works?"

"To be honest, I have never even read any of your works." Kotomine admitted truthfully. "I didn't really have a need to."

"Truly the greatest of woes! I am considered important by millions of people! How is it that you are not one of them?" The man whined, though Shirou's face just awkwardly remained the same.

"Be quiet, fool! Your annoying voice is giving me a migraine!" Assassin growled as she glared at the Caster. "Honestly, how anyone could ever love your works are beyond me. They're nothing more than the words of a madman!"

"O' fair queen of Assyria! If you looked hard enough, you will realize that my works are the epitome of literary genius! Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, The Taming of the Shrew, all of them were the products of I, Shakespeare!"

The famous British playwright boasted proudly as he struck a pose. Summoned as the Caster of the Red faction, he had quickly proven himself to be more useless than trash ten minutes after he had been summoned. Even if he was one of the most famous individuals in the entire world, as it was incredibly hard to not find someone who didn't know one of his works, the fame boost he had did nothing to enhance his capabilities.

As such, he was nothing more than a walking meat shield. Without any true knowledge of magecraft, he was simply left to his own devices while everyone else prepared for war.

Fitting, since his only wish was to observe the end of this 'story'. Even so, he was more of a bother than anything else.

"Why are you even here, Caster? I thought you were tending to our... resident berserker?" Assassin asked, clearly wishing he was somewhere else.

"Ah, yes! That is exactly why I am here!" Caster declared with a grin as dark shadows appeared under his eyes dramatically. "It seems that our residential berserker has figured out who the enemies are and has ascertain his goals. He has begun... his rampage."

At this, the two other individuals in the room went wide eyed. This had not been expected.

"WHAT?!" Assassin screeched.

"Oh my..." Shirou Kotomine muttered.

"Indeed! It truly was a sight to behold! With one movement, he ripped through his chains and blew through the wall! It was like watching a statue move! An incredibly muscular stat-"

"You did something!" Assassin cut in, murder clear on her features. "What did you do? Don't tell me that you _told_ him where they were!"

"Ahaha..." Caster giggled maniacally to himself, earning a sweatdrop from the priest.

"Yeah... he totally did."

* * *

"Ah... Shirou, you brought a friend!"

Merem greeted the pair cheerfully from his seat at the living room table. Around his feet were several rats varying in size, each nibbling on a piece of celery or cheese that Merem had scattered around.

Jeanne had a bewildered look on her face, but Shirou just looked indifferent. Merem was known as the 'Rat King' in the rat world, apparently. Thus, he attracted those small rodents like moths to a flame.

It was annoying sometimes. Especially when they were in old churches. Apparently rats loved to make their nests in rickety old churches.

"You've been busy." Shirou noted as he gently prodded a rat away with his foot. "I had an encounter with a servant, you know. It would have helped if you had decided to intervene instead of watching."

"Watching? Why would I ever do something like that when your life is in danger?" Merem asked with an innocent expression, causing Shirou to facepalm.

"See? This is what happens when all you do is information gathering." He murmured.

"Um..."

The two of them turned to stare at the French saint as she hesitantly raised her voice. She had switched out her battle attire for her regular clothes, revealing a simple white shirt and purple skirt that oddly looked good on her.

"I'm sorry, but... who are you? You're not a servant, but you feel kind of-"

"Off?" Merem finished, earning a small nod from the blonde. He sighed. "Well, I guess that is to be expected. Like you servants, I am a being who is clad in mystery. Though unlike heroic spirits, who simply garner it through being a hero, I have gathered it with physical age."

"Physical age?" Jeanne blinked in confusion.

"Merem, is a special being." Shirou explained as he tried to drive away a rat that was trying to crawl over his shoe. "He has lived for a long time. A _very_ long time. Like... at least 1,000 years or something."

"Give or take." Merem shrugged.

Jeanne's eyes widened. "But that's impossible! No human being could possibly live that long! Even if there was such a way to extend someone's physical form, their soul should have crumbled away!" Her face suddenly blanched. "Don't tell me... are you a vampire?!"

Merem's eyebrow ticked with annoyance. "I'm a dead apostle ancestor, yes. That is the correct title for the name of my kind." He put his head on the table with a tired expression. "And before you ask, no, I do not sparkle. That's just some stupid thing that was invented by that cursed author from America."

Jeanne felt faint. How can this be? She had followed Shirou since he was a fellow member of christianity, but why in the world was he bunking with a vampire?! A really old vampire?!

She glared at Shirou, who returned it with a sheepish look.

"Sorry... I forgot to mention that to you. It wasn't at the top of my objectives, to be honest." He apologized, though it looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

"How? How could this have possibly slipped your mind?" She asked with a cross look. "And why in the world would you be with him? I thought the church was supposed to be hunting people like him?"

"Like I said, he's an exception. Merem is one of the few dead apostles who doesn't really have much of an interest in harming humanity, so the Church gave him an offer of protection so long as he worked for them."

"It was a good deal. I get to be put in charge of all of the Church's weapons, and I don't have to go out hunting for blood. Having easy access to blood bags in the hospital makes things so much easier. I'm surprised I didn't think about it before."

Jeanne looked a little bit conflicted at that information. In life, she had never encountered such a being before. She only knew of such information thanks to the knowledge granted by the Grail. They were known as sworn enemies of the church, constantly putting humans in peril just by existing. Their longevity, stemming from their need to suck blood, was the only way for them to survive.

Still, if what Shirou said was true, then there was nothing for her to fear. The Church has given him an oath of protection, after all. They weren't a powerful organization for nothing. Their actions must have been weighed carefully before they came to a decision. She had no reason to believe that he would attempt to kill her.

"Anyway, we're getting off topic." Merem said as he gently tapped his foot on the floor, causing the rats to scatter. "I have been watching you two ever since you escaped that terrifying spear wielder. If I recall correctly, you said that you were a mediator of sorts for the grail war, right?"

Jeanne nodded. "I am the servant of the Ruler class. It is my job to oversee the Grail War as an impartial judge and to enact punishment on those who disobey the rules."

"Ruler? I don't remember reading a class like that in the reports." Shirou said with a confused look.

"That's because it is not among the original seven. It's part of the backup system and is only summoned when the Grail deems it necessary." She sat down at the table and gave a tired sigh. "Truth be told, even the circumstances for a Ruler class servant to be summoned is quite vague. I'm supposed to be overseeing the war, but I feel like I'm missing something else. The bigger picture, you could say."

"Well this war is anything but normal." Merem noted as he drummed his fingers on the table. "A war of seven turning into fourteen is not a war anymore, but a calamity. A team of seven versus seven will leave the city of Trifas with a large amount of destruction. It's going to be a pain for the Church to cover up." He scratched his cheek. "And you also seem to be in trouble as well. That servant was hellbent on destroying you. That's gotta be illegal, right?"

"Indeed. It is certainly troublesome. However, that servant operated under orders from his master, who may or may not have operated with his teammates knowledge. As such, I cannot act unless I have more information." She bit her lips. "I am terribly sorry for inconveniencing you two like this, I am in your debt. However, I must leave soon. If that servant decides to come back, he will most certainly track me back here. I do not wish for you two to be-"

"It is fine." Shirou interjected quickly with a wave of his hand. "The two of us do not mind. It wouldn't do for the mediator of this war to be out and about without some form of protection."

"We are more than prepared for an attack. Besides, we have a user of Magic on our side." Merem said with a yawn. "I highly doubt we will have any problems with keeping you here."

Jeanne blinked. "A... User of magic?"

Merem cocked his head towards Shirou, who was busy trying to get the rats who were trying to crawl into the nearby bed. "Him. He is a dead apostle ancestor who wields the first true magic."

That was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Within seconds of registering what he said, Jeanne's head hit the table as she fainted.

"Huh... She took it better than I expected."

* * *

"This is absolutely ridiculous."

Mordred grumbled as she laid down on the cold floor. Ever since that incident at the Church, her master had quickly dragged her back to their base of operations. Of course, when he said base of operations, he didn't mean a nice hotel.

Nope. He meant a graveyard. A place where only the dead reside.

"A knight like me shouldn't be in a place like this!" She complained loudly as she stared at her Master's back as he continued to work on what looked like to be a mound of snakes.

"Stop complaining. This place has some rich leylines. You want to be able to fight at full power when you finally meet a servant of the black faction, right?" Kairi asked without looking up from his work, earning a small pout from the servant.

"But this is absolutely despicable! Even for me, sleeping amongst the dead is just weird!"

"I'm a necromancer. This is like home to me." He said simply as he cut another snake in half and placed it inside a jar which was filled with strange liquid. "Of course, this place is also a very nice hiding spot. It has plenty of exits and is easy to defend. Worst case scenario is someone actually managing to get in here. If that happens, I'll just blow the entire place up."

"Tch... At least you don't mess around." Mordred muttered as she tried to peer over her master's shoulder. "So what are you doing now? These snake things don't look like much."

Her hand extended towards one of the snakes that was lying on a small makeshift table. Before she could make contact with the animal, however, Kairi quickly slapped her hand away.

"Hey! Don't touch!" He ordered with a serious look.

"Eh?! What was that for? You don't have to be so overprotective!" She complained as she shot the man a dirty look.

"I'm not being overprotective, I'm making sure you don't do something stupid!" Kairi grumbled as he held up the jar filled with snakeheads. "See these? They're not just some random snake I got off the blackmarket. It's a hydra infant."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hydra? You mean that snake thing that Heracles fought?"

"Yeah. The immortal monster that would regrow its heads every time it was cut off. At least, until he annihilated all of them at once." He placed the container back down and wiped his hands on a nearby napkin. "Of course, this is just a weaker variant. It doesn't make it any less dangerous, however."

"Didn't it have poison breath or something?" She asked, earning a deadpan look from her master. "Oh..."

"Yeah. You want to try and touch this thing again? If it was an adult, my lungs would be rotting right now. What do you think will happen if you touch it?"

She bit her lips and withdrew her hand. She didn't exactly know all the details personally, but the knowledge the grail had given her was more than enough to know that the snake was dangerous. Hydra poison was something that the Greeks had ordained as a certain death. Legends say that it was so incredibly potent, it killed the Centuar Chiron when he had accidentally been pierced by Heracles' arrows. The pain had been so great, he relinquished his immortality just so he could be free of the pain.

Now, she wasn't a weakling by any means, but...

Unlimited pain sounded very bad.

"So what do you plan on doing with the snake?"

"Well... with the amount that I have, I can only make a knife. A bolt would have been better, but it'll have to do." Kairi sighed as he cut another snake in half. "If you're just going to watch me work, try to be silent. Otherwise, go nap or something."

Mordred snorted. "Nap... that's unnecessary. Servants do not require sleep." She paused for a moment as a certain thought came to her. "By the way, Master. What is your wish?"

Even as Shishigou proceeded in his task - one which required absolute concentration, as a single misstep could lead to his death via the Hydra's poison - Saber asked him a question without a care in the world.

"If you're asking me about the wish I'm going to make to the Holy Grail... I'm going to have it bring prosperity to my clan. I _am_ a magus, you know."

Saber looked disappointed at his rather pedestrian reply. It is only too natural that a magus wishes for the fortunes of his or her clan.

"Is that it? How dull."

"Don't be stupid - that stuff is important. A human being has a short lifespan, you know. You can't even live up to two hundred. But sons succeed the dreams of their fathers."

"Not all sons succeed their fathers."

"Are you speaking from experience?"

Instantly, a scowl appeared on Saber's face. Shishigou apologized with a bitter smile. But she did not respond to his apology, instead wordlessly crawling into her sleeping bag.

While Servants do not need to sleep, it is not without its use in controlling prana consumption. This is especially the case for Red Saber - Mordred - who devours an incredible amount of prana as payment for possessing incomparable strength. Having her save from using prana as much as possible will be for the better. Well... she is only sulking right now.

As he processed the Hydra, Shishigou chewed on some dried meat and fruits for nourishment. But, now and then, he would shift his eyes from the silently proceeding task before him to the sleeping girl. Every time he looked, he saw only the face of an innocent child - in some way, this depressed him.

It reminded him so much... of her.

"...Okay, that's all nine. Now for the body."

Muttering to himself, Shishigou immersed himself in his thoughts. His views might be slanted due to how the summoning itself had went, but if he had the choice of having either Mordred or Arthur as his Servant, he would not hesitate to choose Mordred.

Between the King - wielding a shining holy sword as the very manifestation of chivalry - and the rebellious knight who attempted an insurrection with the King's own men, is it not clear that the latter is far more interesting a personality?

Shishigou did not fully understand whether Mordred felt love or hate for Arthur. After all, there is only a thin line between the two emotions. However, it is most certainly true that she was greatly influenced by Arthur. That was why she rebelled - to become more like her father or to deny the King's ways, Shishigou did not know - and, regardless of whether it was right or wrong, that took courage.

"...I guess now I know why I summoned her."

His smile was one of mockery for himself. A magus like him could never have summoned a proper Knight of the Round Table to begin with - so three cheers for the Knight of Treachery.

Having completed his work, Shishigou crawled into his sleeping bag and slept like a log.

* * *

At the Yggdmillenia fortress, Homunculus guards roamed the hallways during their routine patrols around the estate. Even with the number of bounded fields, curses, and traps that had been situated around the premise, Gordes had always been paranoid when it came to intruders. Thus, he created high-class combat homunculi.

They each carried halberds, swords, and even some high level mystic codes for the sole purpose of protection. However, it was unlikely that any of them would be able to do harm to a servant.

They were the meat shields. Nothing more, nothing less.

At the bottom of the castle, where the Greater Grail lied, a pair of Homunculi stood guard outside the doors. They remained motionless and alert, more like statues than living beings. They were only allowed to move when they changed shifts or when a member of the family approached them.

Like now, for instance.

The pair saluted as Darnic approached them with his hands in his pockets. His smile was snake-like, but the two of them thought nothing of it. After all, this was the man they were created to serve.

He stopped in front of them silently before raising his hand and gesturing to the door.

"You are relieved of your duties. Please... give me some privacy."

The two homunculi nodded before leaving the room, heading upstairs to patrol the upper part of the castle. Waiting several seconds to make sure that they had truly departed, he spoke into the darkness.

"You can come out now."

From the shadows of a nearby pillar, a puddle of black sludge suddenly began squirming and spasming as it began to rise and solidify into the form of a man.

Fabro Rowan narrowed his eyes. "It took some tedious time, but I have made it. Is what I seek truly here?"

"Ha! Do you truly think that I would lie to you?" Darnic smiled as he opened the doors to the innermost chamber, revealing the machine that could grant any wish it was presented with.

Studying it for a moment, the dead apostle nodded. "I see this isn't a waste of my time."

"Indeed. With this, you can achieve the dream you have sought to achieve for so long." Darnic chuckled as he walked inside. "All you have to do is stir some trouble and I will be satisfied. Honestly, you wouldn't believe just how much time and planning it took for me to pull something like this off, but it was truly worth it in the end! For once, I'm glad the princess hadn't caught on to what I have been doing."

"And I assume you want me to lure her here in compensation, correct?" Rowan asked, his eyes never leaving the Greater Grail.

"Ha! A magical threat like this will surely lead her here, even if I wasn't involved!" He dusted his clothes with a smirk. "You know, it has certainly been a wild ride. Laying dormant for such a long time has been tiring, even for me! You cannot fathom just how much self-control I needed just to prevent myself from going on a rampage!"

"Hn." Rowan grunted as he began walking towards the wish-granting machine. "You know this will take a while, right? Even I do not know just how long it'll take for me to assimilate this... thing."

"It doesn't matter. By the time you do, it'll be too late for everyone."

He grinned.

"It'll be the end... of everything." Turning around he began to walk back the way he came, closing the doors behind him and leaving Rowan alone.

"Have fun, Chaos! Enjoy your meal~!"


	6. Phase 1: Assault

Merem had stepped out of the room, having left on the pretense of wanting to see more of the city. Of course, it was probably a lie, but it wasn't like Shirou was going to stop him.

It was much less of a hassle that way.

On the bright side, that left him alone with Jeanne, who was much better company than the ancestor. She sat beside him with a curious expression. Considering how she has never really seen magic before, it was easy to understand.

"It is truly surprising. You say you are no magus, yet you wield a miracle only few could ever achieve." Jeanne said as she quietly watched Shirou work over his bed.

"Yes... Ironic, isn't it? My aptitude for magecraft is quite low, barely even at the level of a third rate magus. It's only thanks to my gift that I can survive in this world. I can at least thank God for that much." Shirou chuckled, truly finding how ironic his life was. He knew he was only placed on such a high pedestal because of his usage of the first, but he was truly just a regular man without it. Sure, being a vampire didn't exactly mean that he was normal, but he was frail even by their standards.

It should have made him feel important, though he just couldn't help but feel pretty inadequate compared to others who had to work hard for their abilities. All he had to do was copy whatever it was they were doing and he could perform it in no time, putting all of their hard work to shame.

There wasn't a single thing he did that could be called a true accomplishment. Everything he had was stolen or ripped off of someone else. In every sense of the word, he was a faker. A truly depressing thought, but he never let it get to his head.

Although, that's not to say that it hasn't brought up some conflicting emotions from time to time.

"I see. Such a gift is certainly something to be thankful about." Jeanne murmured with a small smile, before frowning. "Though I do not like that tone you're using. Do you truly think that your life is not as precious as others?"

Shirou blinked in confusion. "Huh?"

Jeanne sighed. "I asked if you truly believe that your life is less precious than others."

"Er... What brought this up?" He laughed awkwardly, causing Jeanne to give him a deadpan look.

"Your tone says it all, Shirou. I have done my fare share of confessions during my time, so I can easily tell when someone is distressed just by talking to them." Her posture relaxed, though she still had a serious look on her face. "Now tell me... Do you think your life is not as precious as others?"

He paused for a moment before smiling sadly. "To be honest, I cannot figure out just how precious my life exactly is. I'm just put on a high stool by everyone else, simply because I can wield a power that none of them can." He sighed. "Before all this happened, I was just an orphan who had to work hard to get by. My life was full of struggles because of that."

He looked at his hands with a sense of weariness. "Now? Now I just feel conflicted. Every problem I come across now can be solved with a single thought. Whatever I needed most can be brought to life before my eyes. That was cool and all, but then I thought about those who couldn't say the same. What happened to all those other people who go through trials? They all suffered while I survived. Don't you think that's a little bit terrible? Suddenly, my power didn't seem as nice."

Jeanne remained silent as he continued on with his train of thought. Her expression was blank, but it wasn't uninterested in what he was saying. It was gratifying to say the least. He hadn't really confessed his problems to anyone other than Ciel, and even then it was kinda awkward.

"It just didn't sit right with me. Why must I be saved while others have to fight for survival? Why did God choose to give me such an ability? In the end, I could never truly figure out the answer even after I became a full Christian." He looked at her, a lost expression on his face. "Tell me, what am I to God? Does he favor me over others? I just cannot understand..."

It was silent in the room for several seconds as Shirou finally stopped talking. His question was an incredibly intricate one, but it was also very simple if you dug right down into the core of it.

Why was he saved?

The teachings of the Church say that God is all-loving and all-knowing. He would tend the needs of every single person who would knock on his door, but where would suffering be if that was true? To save one person, another must be left behind. That is the law of the world, and something humans are forever bound by. However, it is an earthly rule that doesn't apply to something that can be classified as 'GOD'. As such, why does God permit suffering to exist?

All through her life, she had met people who felt the way this boy did. They felt as if God had abandoned them, not caring that they were essentially slaughtering their fellow humans and death had taken over Europe. It was hell on earth, or at least the closest it could get at the time.

However, he was slightly different. Unlike them who questioned if God abandoned them, he questioned if God placed him upon a higher pedestal than anyone else. It was the first time she had ever heard such a question, seeing as many people never really bothered to question the blessings they were given.

"Your question is quite unique." Jeanne admitted after a while as she closed her eyes. "So you're saying you have no idea why you have been blessed with your gift, correct? You feel like God favors you over other people?"

"Well... Yes..."

"Have you ever heard the saying, 'God works in mysterious ways.'?" She asked as she sat on the bed, making herself comfortable. "Well, it's a lot more simpler than you'd think. God didn't give you these gifts because he favors you more than others, that would be against his encompassing love for everyone."

Shirou looked conflicted. "But-"

"God gave you this gift of yours for a reason, Shirou." She said, adopting a lecturing pose. "You may think that he simply abandoned others who could have needed such a gift, but it doesn't seem so to me." She smiled gently. "Do you want to know why?"

"Um..."

He blinked as Jeanne giggled with amusement, seemingly laughing at a private joke.

"Because he gave you the tools to do something about it." She said as she clasped his hand. "I know it seems counterintuitive, giving one person an ability that could save them instead of the entire human race, but that would make humanity's existence as a species null and void without any need for improvement."

She sighed. "I know it seems harsh, but we should not expect God to do everything for us. If God were to give us the answer at every problem we faced, it would be the same as revoking us of our free will to think and choose for ourselves. We can pray for guidance, ask him to help us with a problem once in a while, but we should never ask him to solve everything with a wave of his hand."

Shirou remained silent, listening carefully to what the saint was telling him. To be honest, after hearing this little rant of hers, it actually made more sense then everything else he could come up with. At the very least, it was better than Ciel's own advice which pretty much summed up to 'Shut up and stop taking things for granted'.

"Your gift is special, though do remember that this has not just happened to you. God has allowed many saints in history to perform miracles in his stead. Healing the sick... raising the dead... actions like these are gifted from God himself to once ordinary people like you. The question is, what do you plan to truly do with your gift?"

 _What he wanted to do with his gift._

He never really thought about that before. All the time, he always used it whenever he was in peril or whenever the situation demanded it. It was his go-to solution for everything, simply conjuring whatever he needed to solve the situation at hand. Nothing more, nothing less. All this time, subconsciously, he took his ability for granted.

But now...

His mind was clearer now. In his head, he went through many ideas, many possibilities, thinking about what he should do with his life to quell those questions he had presented to God.

 _I want..._

He jolted suddenly as Jeanne put her hand on his shoulder, her warm smile still present on her features.

"Take your time... This may very well decide how you wish to go from here on out. Do not rush yourself."

Shirou stared at her for a moment before sighing. This woman... really had a point. Then again, this was the Maid of Orleans he was talking to. Why was he acting so surprised that she could give him an answer to his troubles?

He gave a genuine smile. "Thanks, Jeanne-san. You really are a saint. Your words definitely helped me."

The girl blushed shyly and smiled bashfully. "I-it was nothing. Like I said, we should always think to help others in need. My job is to inspire others, so it kind of comes easy to me..."

As she twiddled her thumbs and continued muttering words to herself under her breath, Shirou just returned back to his work with a satisfied smile. Closing his eyes in concentration, he pictured that beautiful set of armor he had just seen earlier. It was unlike anything he had seen before, giving off such a thick aura that it could be likened to a walking fortress.

If he could incorporate it correctly... He'd have a weapon even those at Atlas would be jealous about.

 _"Now then... perhaps I should sew it between the fabric."_

* * *

"Are you daft, Berserker? Stop your assault this instant!"

A young woman wearing a vibrant green dress leapt through the trees as she tried to keep a steady pace with the target. She had an unusual anatomy, having cat eats on her head and a cat tail that swished in the wind, giving her the appearance of a feral tiger. In her hands was a bow that was nearly as tall as she was, yet she didn't seem to have any problems carrying it.

She was Atalanta, the chaste huntress from Greece, summoned as the Archer of Red.

"Ahaha! You tell me to stop, but I cannot obey that! I must head to where the oppressors are and crush them underneath my heel!"

Her target laughed as he continued to plow through trees without effort, carving a lane of destruction towards his destination. The man she was chasing couldn't be likened to an ordinary man, but a huge slab of muscle that was bulging with power. His only piece of clothing was a simple belt that covered his crotch, though it was clear he really didn't need anything else.

Those muscles... were armor in and of itself. A blade may sink into it, but it would surely snap before breaking the skin. That was how unnatural his muscles were.

He was the legendary gladiator who fought against oppression: Spartacus. Though his rebellion had ended in his death, his legendary will remained on.

"We can do that later, there's a time for everything! If you walk in there right now, you'll be killed! Just wait a few more days!" She shouted with exasperation.

"Bwahaha! To me, the word 'wait' does not exist!"

That was it. There was no convincing him. She had thought that she would have been able to get through to him, being a natural with handling beasts, but he was just too abnormal for her. For now, she would do as she was ordered and support him to maximize the chaos. If they were going to loose a piece, it was only natural that they should at least take one of theirs.

"Damn it all..."

"Hey, don't be too angry. He's a very determined man."

The archer stopped in her tracks and turned towards the sound of the voice. Standing on a branch next to her was a green haired man with rugged features and a youthful face. He wore Greek style armor and carried a simple black spear in his hand. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was still deadly nevertheless.

He was the rider of red: Achilles. One of the most famous heroes in Greece, surpassed only by the legendary Heracles.

"Rider..." Atalanta muttered, seemingly annoyed. "Why is it that you are here?"

Rider grinned. "Well, I was worried about you so I came to offer my support! The big guy is quite unstable, so I was kinda worried about you."

"I see..."

Rider sweat dropped at her nonchalant tone. If he had done that with any other woman, he would have surely reduced them to a blushing mess with his incredible masculity. Though for the huntress who had lived most of her life in the wild, courtship was something that was lost on her.

If he recalled correctly, she hadn't even been courted into getting married. A son of Poseidon had managed to beat her in a race through cheating and took her hand in marriage.

Alas, one of the many tragedies in Ancient Greece. For him though, it was just a Tuesday.

"So what is the plan?" He asked, recovering himself and switching back to his serious mode.

"We support him from the rear. If the situation becomes too much for him, we are ordered to retreat." She sighed. "I had hoped we could have communicated with him, but it seems a mutual understanding is just impossible."

Rider shrugged. "He's a very single minded man, though he certainly takes determination to the extreme. I've never met anyone like him before, though if I were to have lived his life, I'd be pretty pissed about authority as well. Then again, I've never been this obsessed with something before."

"Oh really?" Archer gave him a deadpan. "What about when your friend got killed and you dragged the enemy commander around on your chariot after you killed him?"

"Oi... I'm all over that. Really." he scratched the back of his head. "I wouldn't want to get back in a fight with Hector again. He was pretty tough for a dude who moved like a sloth. Of course, I had to get rid of my invulnerability to make it fair, but it was still really hard.

Archer sighed. "Whatever. Just hurry up and follow me. We're loosing him."

As the pair took off, a pair of eyes stared at their backs from the darkness.

* * *

Merem grinned as he strolled out of his hiding place. He had left Shirou and Jeanne alone to go and check out the base of the Yggdmillenia, believing the two of them should be left alone to themselves. And besides, he wasn't sure that woman would actually let him anywhere near this place.

Lightly jogging through the woods, he quietly kept his distance away from the servants up ahead. If he wanted to get through without being seen, he would have to go around them.

It was a simple manner for one such as him. He excelled in stealth, often relying on sneaking up on opponents before overwhelming them with brute force from his right sided demons. It was a cowardly method, but it has kept him alive longer than most of the other dead apostles.

Besides... He wished to see what these 'heroic spirits' were capable of.

Moving carefully, he avoided most of the detection fields and familiars that had been stationed as recon for the enemy. It seems like the Yggdmillenia are just waiting to see what will happen with the enemy berserker.

He laughed at that. The man was a person who ran on pure determination, no doubt about it, but even that would not keep him alive against the might of seven servants. A person like him was doomed to fail from the very beginning.

Then again, he had two other servants to support him. Their capabilities were unknown, but he could tell that they were powerful. The one with green hair in particular. He carried with him a divine scent... Something long lost on the modern age.

"Mm... This war is getting interesting."

He soon came upon a large clearing, revealing a towering castle in the distance.

"Yes... Interesting, indeed."

* * *

Within the fortress of Yggdmillenia, a man wearing an all blue suit with a golden helmet worked frivolously without pause. Around him were masses of moving stone and wood, which were actually the sturdy bodies of Golems. Some were skinny, while others were large and bulky. However, none of them were the same. Each of them had a unique characteristic that distinguished them apart.

The man whispered words and commands to the golems, each of them carrying a specific load of parchment and mystical jewels. Upon receiving his word, they all spread out with a salute and began separating each of their specific loads into a corner where they would begin the process of creating more golems.

"Teacher!"

The man looked up as a young boy no older than twelve approached him with a grin on his face. In his hands were an assortment of jewels and parchment, not unlike the golems he employed for his work.

He was Roche Frain Yggdmillenia, his young master and a prodigy in the construction of Golems. Well, at least compared to those of the modern age. Compared to him, he was nothing more than an amateur who paled in comparison to the speed and efficiency at which he was able to create them.

After all, he was Solomon Ibn Gabirol, or Avicebaron for short. Summoned under the caster class, he was known as the founder of the art of Kabballah. As the first leader of a large theological system, it was only natural that he would be the individual who every golemancer strived to be.

Roche in particular looked up to him the most out of the other magi, even referring to him as teacher instead of his usual class of caster. He admittedly found it a bit hard to get used to, with his anti-social tendencies and whatnot, but he soon was able to at least act the roll of it for the time being.

"Where should I put this, teacher?" The boy asked with an excited expression.

"Over here, Roche. A flat area is needed for precision placement of the jewels. If it is even an inch out of place, it may cause unforeseen errors in their programming." He said as he tapped the base of his workshop table. "When up against a servant, structure and framework must be precise. You have seen what has happened when your golems tried to attack Saber of Red, no?"

At this, Roche began pouting. "I know... She broke them all like twigs."

One of the Yggdmillenia's alarms had gone off in the city and had summoned a small portion of their golem force to intercept the threat. While his own golems were able to last about three hits against the Saber's monstrous strength, Roche's had shattered in a measly one hit. It wasn't surprising, giving that it was a servant, but Roche had been quite depressed that his creations were taken care of so easily.

He hadn't comforted the boy, but his offhanded response about promising to give him a few pointers seemed to have brightened his spirits. It was... Odd. For him, who has spent all of his life around golems, he could never understand humanity.

"It is of no matter that she did so. We can always create more." He said as he drifted around the table and began his work, his hands flying across the ingredients before a humanoid shape began to appear.

"After all... The ultimate creation that I prepare next will, ah, wipe the floor with them once it has been brought to life." He gave Roche a subtle glance. "And with your help, it will be sooner than I had originally planned!"

Roche's eyes lit up in sparks. Caster never got himself worked up about anything, except when he started talking about 'that'. For him, who wished to increase his skills in his art, found himself shivering in anticipation for what was to come.

The creation of the ultimate golem... One which Caster himself had planned on achieving during his life, but ultimately failed to do so... Was just a few days away from completion.

The creation of perfect life... In other words, the creation of the perfect human 'Adam'.

That is what he strove for, the ultimate achievement that rivals God.

* * *

"My lord, what do you plan to do with these intruders?"

Lancer of Black glanced behind him to see Darnic approaching from behind. Judging by the look of annoyance on his face, he assumed his master could feel the warnings from his bounded fields going off like a fire alarm.

"It is simple, Darnic. I shall make an example of them, like the ottomans who tried to stand before me." Lancer wolffish lay grinned as he glanced in the direction of the oncoming servants. "They would boldly dare to stroll into my territory without their full forces is a grave insult that I cannot forgive."

"Then do you wish for me to send out our full forces? A show of overwhelming might could serve as a good psychological move against our enemies."

"You truly think well, Darnic." Lancer complimented with a smirk. "Though it is something I would have done long ago, I have came up with a different plan. One that will be far more useful to us in the long run."

Darnic blinked. "Really? What is it?"

"That large servant who has smashed through most of our guards... It is surely their Berserker. How wasteful would it be if we were to simply exterminate him on the spot?"

"Ah... I see. You wish to divert him form his path of destruction."

"It would be valuable of us to gain a pawn to our side... Especially since Assassin has yet to show up."

The two of them grimaced. The Black Faction was sadly down a single servant, which was the candidate of the Assassin class. Their associate who had planned on entering the war was off in Japan to summon his servant. Originally, summoning the Assassin class servant only netted you a member of the Hasashin sect, but the man had a crazy theory about being able to net an assassin who was not from the organization.

It was a good plan, as the candidates who make up the Hassans are able to easily be identified. If they didn't know what they were looking for, their assassin could easily swoop in and kill one of the masters before being noticed.

Of course, the summoning had been planned to take place a few days ago. Their associate should have already summoned his servant by then.

There was the incredibly low chance that the Red Faction had somehow tracked him down, but he scrapped that idea as impossible. They had taken large steps to destroy any signs of his existence for the past few days. They would have needed to dig awfully deep to find out anything about him.

Or they could use a computer, but magi were particularly against using technology. It was inferior, they said.

Still, it was quite worrisome. Assassin wasn't a particularly strong class for frontal combat, but they were invaluable when it came to killing masters. If used correctly, they could kill the masters before any servant knew what was happening. Without a supply of mana to keep them in the world, they would quickly die off one by one until the last man stood in front of the Grail.

But alas, they would have to make do with what they have until Assassin's master got here.

"You want me to call caster? I can have him make some preparations."

"Do it. I may need a few of his golems to bring this one down." Lancer admitted as he sat down upon his throne. "And get the rest of the servants here, too. Those other two servants will be a nuisance to deal with."

"As you wish." Darnic bowed and left the balcony, quickly making the preparations for their counterattack.

All the while though, he missed the glare from a pair of eyes from the tree line.


End file.
